


Long Way Down

by ThisBirdWithoutACage



Series: The point of no return [2]
Category: Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Anxiety, Bill Cipher Being Bill Cipher, DEAL WITH IT, Dark fluff, Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Human!Beast, Immortal Wirt, Lantern-Bearer Wirt, M/M, Other Gods and Goddesses - Freeform, Shapeshifting, Stockholm Syndrome, The Beast being The Beast, Unhealthy Attachment - Freeform, Wirt and Greg's mother is Chinese, Wirt needs a hug, kind of, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisBirdWithoutACage/pseuds/ThisBirdWithoutACage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Side story to Beyond the Castle Walls. Wirt sacrifices his own life for Greg's. Now the Lantern-Bearer, he begins to navigate The Unknown. With The Beast breathing down his neck and dealing with his own loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A brother's sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend you read Beyond the Castle Wall! It goes with this fic! Obviously this version of The Unknown is different, but please bare with me! It essentially is the same (kind of). The lost souls are the ones who enter the forest. Wirt and Greg live in a village outside the forest and they entered in by accident.

“I won’t let that happen!”

“Well then, perhaps we better make a deal.”

Wirt staggered a bit, lantern swinging slightly in the cold, winter night. “Deal?” he asked hesitantly.

The shadowy figure of The Beast raised a hand in offering. “I can put his spirit in the lantern. As long as the flame stays lit, he will live on inside. Take on the task of lantern-bearer or watch your brother perish,” The Beast stared at him with unmoving eyes. “Come here.”

Wirt took one look at Greg before sighing in defeat. “Okay.”

The sound of Beatrice flapping her wings desperately barely caught his attention. “Wirt!” she protested.

He set the lantern down in front of the demon, eyes down cast. Then it hit him. He was done; done being a push over and letting others make decisions for him. Greg’s life was in _his_ hands, not this weird creature’s. “Wait,” he stopped, picking the lantern up. “That’s dumb.”

“What?”

“That’s dumb,” Wirt continued, feeling braver than he ever had in his life. “I’m not just gonna wander around in the woods for the rest of my life.”

The Beast apparently did not like that answer. “I’m trying to help you!” he (it?) snarled.

“You’re not trying to help me,” he was pushing it; he knew the creature in front of him could kill him at any moment. “You just have some weird obsession with keeping this lantern lit. It’s almost like…” it dawned on him right then and there. “Your soul is in this lantern.”

The Beast moved forward; and he couldn’t see Beatrice and Greg anymore. The Woodsman disappeared too and everything felt cold. He just knew it was The Beast emanating his power, giving Wirt an inkling on just how fearsome he was. “Are you ready to see true darkness?” The Beast asked and the only thing he could see was its glowing eyes.

“Are yo-“ his voice cracked and he cleared it, the lantern steady in his hands and his feet firm on the ground. “Are you?”

He opened it, inhaling air and his lips forming a shape to blow the flame out. The wind was suddenly knocked out of him. He was thrown to the ground, his head almost hitting the Edelwood his brother was slowly forming into. “Wirt, you idiot!” Beatrice flew towards him and he could see her worry. “You could have been killed!”

The lantern was gone and The Beast seemingly disappeared. The Woodsman was out cold, but the older man wasn’t his concern right now. He grabbed the axe left precariously on the forest floor, trying to chop away the Edelwood. “Come on!” he ground out, but the wood wouldn’t budge. “Why won’t this work?”

The Edelwood kept growing, and Greg made a noise of suffocation. He panicked, anxiety now the only sense he was aware of. His brother was going to die! Greg was suffocating! He had to do something; something fast! The axe wasn’t working and as much as Beatrice tried to help, nothing she did worked either. He dropped the axe, hands shaking. “I’ll do it!” he called out. “Beast, I’ll do it!”

Two eyes appeared against a dark silhouette. “Do what?” he asked, almost mockingly if he didn’t know any better.

“I’ll take the lantern; be the lantern-bearer,” he could hear Beatrice protesting, but he didn’t listen. “I’ll do whatever you want; I don’t care. Just let me take my brother home. Please, that’s all I ask.”

“Very well,” The Beast agreed after a long moment of silence. “You may take your brother home, but you will never leave this forest. Your life for his. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes,” Wirt sighed in defeat.

“Wirt, no!” Beatrice snapped. “There has to be another way; there has to!”

“There is no other way,” Wirt snapped back at her, feeling just as upset as she was. “But Greg’s life is more important than mine.”

“Greg needs you, Wirt!” she flew right in front of his face, dark eyes narrowed. “Greg wouldn’t want you dead!”

“I wasn’t very good to him alive,” he let her perch on his finger. “Hey, maybe it won’t be so bad. As long as Greg is safe, then I’ll be okay. Here,” he fished in his pocket and pulled out the scissors. “Take these to your family.”

“You had them the whole time?”

“Well, I used them to escape Adelaide and…yeah, I was sort of mad at you.”

“Oh you wonderful mistake of nature!” she wrapped her feathery wings around him, tears pouring out of her eyes. He hugged her back.

“Let’s free Greg,” he told her and grabbed the axe again. The wood chopped away easily and he perched Greg on his back. The little boy stirred and his eyes opened wearily. “Wirt?”

“I’m here,” he answered. “Let’s get you home, Greg.”

The boy closed his eyes again; too tired to do anything else. The Beast stared at them. “Remember our deal, boy. Once you get your brother home, you must return.”

“I know,” he snapped at the monster. “I’m not stupid.”

The path he didn’t know existed cleared for them and he followed it straight forward; making a few turns here and there. Beatrice had taken off in a different direction; swearing very loudly she would do whatever it took to help Wirt. A few minutes later, he could see their house. The candles lit and smoke coming from the chimney. He could see his mother’s rocking chair near the window, but no one was in it. He swallowed hard, fighting the tears back. “Wake up, Greg,” he shook his little brother. “Come on, wake up. We’re home.”

“Home?” Greg asked, perking up when he saw their little cottage. “Mommy and Daddy are there, right?”

“Yeah,” he answered, setting the boy down. “Now go, Greg. Go home to Mom and Dad; they’re missing you very much.”

The little boy took one step forward, a giant smile on his face that soon fell when he realized Wirt wasn’t following. “Come on, brother o’mine,” he pulled Wirt’s hand. “Let’s go home! Wirt, why aren’t you moving?”

“I’m not going home, Greg,” damn, this was harder than he thought it would be. “I…I can’t go home. You have too, now go.”

“Not without you!”

“Greg!” he was fighting the tears back the best he could. Greg looked at him before his own tears started falling down his cheeks. His lower lip quivered and Wirt knew the little boy would start to have a sobbing fit. He knelt down, wrapping his arms around him. “Hey now, don’t cry. I’ll be fine. I got us home, didn’t I?”

“But…but you said we’d come home together,” Greg looked at him with watery eyes. “You promised, Wirt!”

“I know,” he stroked the boy’s head. “Maybe one day you’ll understand, but I can’t go home with you. I traded my life for yours and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Greg threw his small arms around him and he hugged the smaller boy fiercely. Greg cried; now soaking Wirt’s shirt with tears. “I’ll miss you,” the boy cried. “And Jason will too!”

“I’ll miss you too,” he felt vines wrap around his body, suddenly jerking him away from his brother. “Greg!” he called out. “Go home! Tell Mom and George I’m fine!”

“Wirt!”

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see his brother’s heartbroken face. Twice the boy tried to run after him, but several vines held him in place. Wirt watched helplessly as his brother cried; the sounds of his sobs alerting their parents. He watched with a watery smile as his mother scooped Greg into her arms, the vines around the boy disappearing. Good. At least, Greg was safe.

However, the presence of the vines and roots around him were very alarming. He struggled and every time he did, they pulled tighter. The Beast watched him amusement. “All this for that pitiful brother,” the creature cocked its head to the side. “You’re so loyal to him. Why?”

“He’s family,” Wirt managed to breath out from the vines enclosing around his neck. “I wouldn’t expect a demon like you to understand the meaning of family.”

The Beast let out a low laugh that sent chills down his spine. “Demon? Hardly,” The Beast scoffed. “Your human misconceptions truly are amusing, boy.”

He wanted to say something truly nasty, but nothing came out. Instead, he was silent as The Beast moved around him. “You are the new lantern-bearer. The Woodsman did his job, but he is useless to me now,” Wirt didn’t want to know what that implied, but he now feared for the Woodsman’s life. The Beast chuckles. “Despite this, I do not trust you enough to do your end of the bargain. An incentive, I believe, is needed.”

“What are you talking about?” Wirt gasped as a vine pulled back his right sleeve, arm stretched out in front of him. The Beast moved forward, gnarly hands grabbing a hold of his flesh. “Let go of me!”

“Hush,” The Beast commanded, a vine pulling around his mouth to silence him. “There’s no need for you to talk.”

He began to protest when he felt it. Hot, searing pain that made him scream into the vine against his mouth. Blood trickled down his arm; a deep gash now replacing his once smooth skin. The pain was throbbing and the damn creature in front of him just watched in amusement as he shook in pain. The beast opened the lantern, saying something in an old language and adding the blood from his arm into the canister.

He was starting to feel woozy and his vision was beginning to blur. He was losing blood too quickly from the deep wound in his arm. It would scar and be noticeable if he showed it off. The roots and vines trapping him held him steady. All he wanted was to sleep. Or throw up, both sounded really good right now. “What are you doing?” he managed to ask in a raspy voice, face now strikingly pale.

“Blood is the life force for almost every single species,” The Beast started on calmly. “The Woodsman swore to chop down Edelwood trees for me, so I never needed to take his blood. He had an incentive; his daughter. But you are different. I do not trust you, so I am taking your blood to bind it with my life source.”

“What?” he asked, barely lucid.

“Pay attention,” The Beast growled. “Your life is now bound with mine. You will not age and technically you’re immortal now. Not invulnerable, but ageless since your life is tied with mine. You’ll still need to eat and such, but you will remain fifteen or however old you are forever. The lantern will still need Edelwood, but since I have your life in the lantern, the Edelwood is just like icing on the cake.

The Beast trailed a finger down his cheek, a nail digging into his flesh painfully. He flinched, but everything was becoming too much. “Get…get away from…me,” he protested weakly. The Beast just laughed.

“Foolish boy,” The Beast chuckled again. “You’re mine for eternity. Unless you want to blow out the lantern, you’ll live forever. I don’t peg you for the suicidal type.”

The Beast threaded its hands through his hair before disappearing. The only thing Wirt could hear before falling unconscious was the sound of its voice.

_“TRALALAAAA, TRALALAA, CHOP THE WOOD TO LIGHT THE FIRE…”_


	2. A brother's punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wirt wakes and deals with the aftermath of his choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented and left kudos! Have some potatoes and molasses. *Scoops them into bowls and passes them out*. I can't wait to add a few more characters in and I know if you read the latest chapter of Beyond the castle walls, you're wanting to know about Gregory. Sorry, we won't see Gregory in this story! Other than the first chapter and maybe flashbacks. He will be mentioned, but this is in Wirt's point of view. Hope you stick with this! It won't be as long as Beyond the Castle walls, but it does give us more Beast screen time.

He didn’t know how long he’d slept; only that he didn’t want to wake up and realize this nightmare was real.

Wearily, he opened his eyes to find that his bed was very soft. For a quick second, he imagined he was back home in the small bed he shared with Greg. He felt the mattress, hoping to feel the quilt they slept with only to find soft grass and vines.

Grass. Vines. Edelwood. The lantern. The Beast!

All of it came back to him and he shot his body upwards, quickly regretting it. The world spun around him and his stomach lurched forward. He fell to his knees, dry heaving for several minutes. His stomach was empty so nothing came out, but that didn’t make him feel any better.

“You’re awake.”

He gritted his teeth at the sound of the voice. The sun was sinking lower into the sky, casting eerie shadows onto the trees. He tried to ignore the hammering of his heart; each thump feeling like a stab in the back. The Beast, in his shadowy form and glowing eyes, seemed to mock him. “Feeling better?”

“Leave me alone,” he managed to get out; throat burning from feeling parched.

The Beast loomed over him menacingly, a long gnarled hand gripping his chin tightly. “I would speak to me with a little more respect, boy,” he sneered, nails digging into his flesh. “I could have let you and your brother die in the snow. It would have been fun watching you freeze to death, but I didn’t. Your brother would have made a fine tree; given me enough oil to last a year if not two.”

Wirt thrashed in the demon’s grip. “Don’t talk about Greg that way!” he snapped as the creature effectively pinned him against a tree. “Why are you doing this? Why me?”

“Do you really want an answer to that question?” The Beast spoke low against his ear and Wirt shivered in spite of himself. “Really, this act of self-pity is deplorable. I thought you had grown past this. Apparently not.”

“Let go of me!”

The Beast’s hold on him sharpened. “Such a demanding, spoiled boy. I let you take your brother home; I spared both your lives and this is how you show your gratitude,” the demon’s gnarled hands traveled to cup his face; nails digging into the skin near his eyes. “Selfishness is a very unattractive trait. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Wirt didn’t answer him. He just moved his head out the demon’s grip.

The Beast apparently did not like that. “Look at it me,” he hissed, grabbing Wirt’s head again. Wirt just squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to do what the creature asked. Or demanded, rather.

“Asinine boy,” the demon growled, nails digging rather close to his eyes. He let out a grunt of pain, eyes flashing open to meet the harshly bright eyes of The Beast. “No one is going to come and save you from your fate. You made the decision; now accept it. There’s no going back, boy.”

The tears slipped down his cheeks before he could even stop them. Whether it was from the pain The Beast was inflicting or the realization that he was completely at this demon’s mercy he didn’t know. He couldn’t bring himself to wipe them away, hands to numb against the Edelwood tree to even try. The Beast moved a hand, fingers wiping the tears away. He didn’t bother to stop him and he could only hope that Greg was safe. Beatrice, too.

“Crying won’t help you either,” The Beast commented. “You must forget you even had a family. It’ll make things easier.”

He tore away from The Beast, falling to the forest floor. He dry heaved again, body shaking and eyes squeezed shut. The Beast moved around him, eyes empty yet shining brightly against the darkened forest. He ignored the demon’s presence, feeling more tears drip down his face before a loud sob tore through his lips.

He didn’t just cry; he bawled as if he were a baby again. His fists beat the ground floor, tearing at the grass as he sobbed. The sobs racked his body painfully, each one making his lungs feel like they were burning. His throat hurt from the crying, but he didn’t stop.

The realistic side of himself refused to believe that this was all a dream. While he wanted to be anywhere but here, he knew it was wishful thinking. A part of him imagined his home; a small cabin with a bed he shared with his brother. He missed Greg’s incessant chatter, his step-father’s patient smile, and the warm embraces his mother would give. He was never going to see them again.

Still, there had to be a way out; Beatrice said she would try and find one. He believed her, but he didn’t know how long it would take. He didn’t even know how long he’d been asleep. Could days have passed? Months? Years? A century?”

“How long…?” he trailed off in between sob.

“Two days,” The Beast answered as if he were amused by this whole situation. “You lost quite a bit of blood.”

“Fuck you,” he spat, remembering his step-father using the word once. The gleeful look in The Beast’s eyes vanished.

The Beast disappeared for a moment, only to reappear in front of his face. His hands found themselves in Wirt’s hair, pulling it sharply by the roots and lifting his body up in the process. He let out a hiss of pain, hands darting up to remove the demon’s hands from him. “Stop that! Let go! I’m sorry! I won’t say that again! Just let me go!”

The Beast did remove his hands from his hair, dropping him back to the ground. Shadowy hands held him in place. “You will do well to respect me, Wirt,” the way he said his name mad a shiver run down his spine. “I am the one allowing you to live. Don’t think for a minute that I can’t make your stay here unpleasant.”

“Like it isn’t already,” he snorted, glaring at the demon as he stared back with unnervingly bright eyes. “How worse could things get?”

The Beast let out a hollow laugh. “I could let the other Gods have their way with you. And some do have a craving for human flesh,” a hand trailed down his cheek again. “Especially young flesh, which I have heard is almost as sweet as baby’s blood.”

Wait. Gods?

The Beast lifted him up quite easily, laughing as he flailed around in his grip. He couldn’t even scream as The Beast placed his fingers in his mouth. Sticky liquid, most likely sap, trickled down his throat like honey. It was sickeningly sweet like syrup his mother would put on pancakes. It didn’t help his dry throat; only making it feel like he was suffocating.

He stopped struggling in The Beast’s arms, feeling like he was a boat floating on a lake. He could feel the demon laugh and he wasn’t entirely sure what the sap, or whatever it was, did to him. Was it like a sleeping draft? He didn’t feel tired; more sluggish if anything. As if his senses had been dulled.

He’d tasted the forbidden fruit; and he wanted more of it.

The Beast pulled his fingers out of his mouth, chuckling lowly as he let out a soft whine. “Such a greedy boy,” The Beast seemed amused by this. “If I gave you more, it probably would kill you. Too much of something can be bad, you know.”

Wirt didn’t respond to that. Everything felt fuzzy and kind of blurry. For a few minutes he felt he had passed out, but he couldn’t tell at this point. After a long while, or perhaps it was a short while, things became clearer.

He was lying on something soft, a bed perhaps. For a brief moment, he felt like he was on his bed back home. He half expected Greg’s voice to nag at him to get up, but all he got was a pair of hands threading through his hair. Comforting; something his mother used to do when he was little to calm him down. Except his mother’s hands didn’t feel like tree branches.

“Awake again, I see,” The Beast mused. “Enjoy your nap?”

He instantly pulled away, successfully falling out of bed in the process. The Beast seemed to sneer down at him and instantly, Wirt realized where they were. “Adelaide’s home,” he started, noting the disorganized mess that had occurred not too long ago. “Why-“

“I figured you needed some place to stay. I’m a generous God, after all.”

God?” “But you’re a beast,” Wirt protested, still not liking the fact he was staying in a dead woman’s home. It was too ironic. “Everyone calls you that. Or a demon!”

The Beast snorted. “Such misconceptions are appalling. No, you foolish boy, I am technically not a beast. That is just a title you humans have given me. I am, in fact, a God.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Wirt argued frankly. “Gods are supposed to be good. You’re definitely not good.”

The Beast stared at him for a good few seconds. Wirt thought that maybe he’d crossed the line and The Beast would get angry, but instead he laughed. The laugh sent several shivers down his spine; the God laughing like he’d heard the most incredibly funny joke. “Smart boy,” the god laughed. “I am certainly not what you humans consider to be good. But no, gods are what they’re personalities are. Some are crazy, some are sane. Some are what you humans call “Good”, and others are not.”

He supposed that made sense, but how did this forest inhabit Gods? “Are there more?” he asked cautiously.”

The Beast nodded. “Of course there are. There are hundreds of us here. Some would even eat you given the opportunity. The Goddess Coatlicue would eat you raw. No time for preparation and it would be very painful.”

Wirt felt his stomach twist. “What kind of God are you? The God of terrorizing kids? Manipulation? Lanterns?”

He knew he was giving attitude, but he didn’t car at this point. The Beast gave a short chuckle. “I am the leader of the Gods; the oldest one to emerge. Maybe I’ll let you figure out what I am,” he cocked his shadowy head in mockery. “Would you like that?”

“I’d like to go home,” he mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled, trying to ignore the hands that were placed on his shoulder.

“Hm,” The Beast mused. “Maybe I’ll have to pry it from your lips. And I’d really hate to do that, Wirt.”

He hated the way the god said his name. “I said I’d rather go home than figure out what you are,” the grip on his shoulders tightened and he let out a grunt of pain. “If you’re technically not a beast, what do the others call you?”

“...Cernunnos.”

“What?”

“Listen up; I won’t repeat myself,” The god sneered. “My kind call me Cernunnos. I am the ruler of The Unknown.”

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow. “You’re the ruler?”

Gnarled hands gripped his chin again; his dark eyes now meeting the ultra-bright eyes of the horned god. “You’re testing my patience. I have very limited patience for disrespect,” he didn’t even struggle to get away this time; standing still in The Beast’s grip. “You think you’re in charge, but no. There is only me, there is only my way; there is only the forest, and there is only surrender. Make sure you remember that or there will be…repercussions.”

He didn’t like the sound of repercussions, so he just nodded numbly. What else could he do? The Beast stroked his cheek almost lovingly. “Such a good boy,” it sounded like he was purring. “I am glad you agreed to the deal. These next few centuries will be interesting. Unless of course, you blow out the lantern. But you aren’t the suicidal type now, are you?”

Wirt had no answer to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! See ya next time!


	3. A brother's sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loneliness is a bad feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I'm back! *Waves* I wanted to update before I go on Thanksgiving break. After that, it's time to settle down and work on finals for the semester :/ But it won't be so bad; I like having to do work and stuff, so enjoy the chapter. Though you may not like the ending *bows head sheepishly*

The days seemed to bleed together; each one more miserable than the next.

Wirt was all alone in the house, with nothing to do but clean Adelaide’s small house. The thread took hours to clean up, considering he couldn’t find a broom for a long time. Didn’t witches, or whatever the woman was, have brooms? He managed to fix a few holes in the room and patch up a few spots on the walls, but that took less than two days. He was bored with nothing to do.

The Beast hadn’t appeared for a long time. Seven days, a whole week, in fact. Wirt was relieved about this, but the anxiety in his mind didn’t cease. He was so lonely here. Beatrice was hopefully with her family, but he wouldn’t deny the hopelessness. She promised to help him. Why hasn’t she shown up?

“Stop that!” he quietly lectured to himself. “I don’t need Beatrice. She doesn’t need to get involved; this isn’t her mess.”

“Talking to yourself is a bad habit, don’t you think?”

He jumped at the sound of The Beast’s voice, whirling around to see the shadowy God towering over him. He shrunk away slightly, not liking the way the God’s hand stretched out towards his face. He scooted back, legs shaking in fear. Where was the bravado he had earlier? Was all this anxiety slowly chipping his new found courage away?

“So quiet now,” hands were on his shoulders. “Nothing to say, boy? Has all that courage drained?”

“Please leave me alone,” he started quietly, giving a small shudder as cold fingertips tilted his chin upwards.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands,” The Beast sneered. “There’s something I need you to do.”

“What?” he asked cautiously, having a sinking feeling he knew what The Beast was asking.

“The Edelwood needs harvesting,” The Beast seemed oddly happy by this, clearly knowing that Wirt was not ready nor comfortable enough to do it. “As the new lantern-bearer, it is your job.”

“N…no!” he stammered, goosebumps rising as the God stared at him. “I’m not ready!”

“It does not matter,” The Beast’s grip on his shoulder’s tightened. “You will fill the lantern up or you will grow weak. I will not be seen as weak in front of the others. Need I give you another incentive?”

“What?” he narrowed his eyes.

“I could bring your brother here again,” The Beast mused thoughtfully. “He still would make a nice Edelwood tree; enough to give us a year’s worth of oil.”

“No!” his hand reached out for the axe located on the dining table. “Don’t hurt my brother!”

“Then chop down the tree.”

“But-“

The Beast’s face was directly in front of his, eyes that strange glowing brightness that seemed hollow. “You will chop down the Edelwood, Wirt,” the God pulled him closer, distancing the space between them. “You don’t have a choice. You swore to me you would and a deal’s a deal. Do you want me to bring little Gregory back into The Unknown? I could do that and make it most…unpleasant for him.”

“Don’t hurt Greg,” he protested weakly, now feeling very ill. “Where’s the tree?”

The Beast seemed happy. “Follow me.”

The moon was high above the trees tonight. Not quite full, but almost there. He shivered slightly, feet making a crunching sound as he tromped through the snow after the Horned God. The lantern was clenched tightly in his hand, the woodsman’s axe in his belt. Come to think of it, he had no idea where the Woodsman went to. Did he go home? Did he find his daughter?

“We are here,” The Beast seemed to float away, allowing Wirt to see the relatively tall Edelwood tree. A single face was etched into the wood. Depressing. Heartbroken. It made Wirt’s stomach churn. Nearby, a belt and a large gray coat and hat lay nearby and bile nearly rose into his throat.

“N…no!” he protested, trying to move away as the lantern fell lightly into the snow. “I…I can’t! He…he didn’t deserve this!”

He felt The Beast’s surprisingly firm body against his back. “You will chop it down,” The Beast murmured quietly against his ear. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Can’t I find a different tree?”

“…No,” The Beast chuckled. “I’ve been wanting to turn this man into a tree for years. And to think, he actually believed his daughter was inside the lantern. Did you know her tree was the first tree he chopped down?”

He fell to his knees, heaving into the snow. The bile left a foul taste in his mouth, bits of it dribbling down his tree. The Beast stared at him in faint disgust. “Get up; the tree isn’t going to chop itself,” the God floated away. “TRALALALA, TRALALALA, CHOP THE WOOD TO LIGHT THE FIRE!”

He couldn’t remember how it happened exactly. One moment The Beast was singing that annoying song of his and he snapped. “Shut u-“

He had swung the lantern in The Beast’s direction, eyes widening and letting out a small scream at what he saw. He only saw the body for a few minutes, but it wasn’t The Beast’s surprised face that caught his attention. It was the faces and sad eyes that made up his entire body. It was almost as if he were made out of Edelwood….

The lantern slipped from his grasp and for a moment, the woods were deadly silent. The Beast had seemingly disappeared, though he could feel the tension in the atmosphere. What the hell was that? Could that have been The Beast’s true form?

He didn’t have much time to think for the wind was soon knocked at out him. The Beast easily pinned him to the ground, claws digging painfully into his shoulders till he cried out. “Don’t you ever do that again,” The Beast growled, eyes blazing with angry fire. “If you do that again, I will not hesitate to hurt you!”

“What…” he was terrified; the eyes never leaving his. “What was that? Is that what you look like?”

The Beast’s gaze lessened its intensity, but the hands on his shoulders tightened. “The light from the lantern is, shall we say, unpleasant. If you even think of doing that again, I will gouge out those pretty little eyes of yours and leave you blind for the rest of your miserable existence!”

The Beast, from what Wirt noticed, had lost a bit of his composure. He wondered if anyone had ever seen him this angry before, though he highly doubted it. He squirmed uncomfortably in The Beast’s grasp. “I…I won’t do it again!” he pleaded. “Just…just let me go!”

He felt The Beast’s hands leave him, vines coming up instead to hold him in place. The Beast’s hands cupped his face delicately, though the fingertips bruised his jaw ever so slightly. “I saw the funeral, you know,” The Beast started conversationally. “Your parents think you’re with your birth father up in so-called Heaven.”

He felt the words sting him like a slap to the face. It shouldn’t have surprised him, but the words made his heart ache with sadness. “They really think I’m dead?” he asked, annoyed with how he sounded so wounded.

The Beast was just too pleased. “They certainly are not looking for you if that is what you are wondering,” The Beast sneered. “There is no life for you back there. You belong to The Unknown. You belong to the lantern. And,” the hands trailed down his face. “You belong to me.”

The tears poured out before he could even stop them. The Beast pulled away; vines falling apart easily. Wirt curled into a ball, back pressed against the Woodsman’s tree and knees drawn in. He let his face fall to his kneecaps, shoulders shaking violently as he sobbed. When The Beast lay a gnarled hand on his head, he pulled away. “Don’t touch me!” he sniffed before returning to his cries.

The Beast only sighed. “Teenagers,” he thought he heard the God grumble. “Enough of this pathetic display of sadness. The tree needs to be chopped down.”

He just continued to cry, a bitter feeling in his throat. The Woodsman had given his life to protect him and Greg and this was how he was to repay him? By chopping down his tree? The Beast stared at him. “Think of it this way. You’ll be reuniting father and daughter.”

“I…I can’t.”

“So you would let the Woodsman rot away? Be a tree forever? Some display of gratitude that is,” The Beast chuckled. “I did not know you had a sadistic side to you, Wirt.”

He flinched. Was it cruel to let the Woodsman rot away as a tree? Would it be cruel to turn him into oil and then have his face appear on The Beast’s body? Next to his daughter even? What was he supposed to do? What would Greg do?

He knew what Greg would do. Greg would look on the bright side of everything; refusing to see the downside. But Wirt was not Greg. He would never be Greg.

He stood up on shaky legs, eyeing the Woodsman’s tree. What choice did he have? He felt so weak and helpless. There was an itch coursing throughout his body and he felt sick. Like an addict without his fix. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to the tree. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The first chop to the tree echoed in his ears and The Beast laughed.

He felt numb; barely able to even lift the axe with his not very strong teenage body. Maybe over time that would change, but for now, every hit to the tree made him feel exhausted.

He chopped at the tree in what was possibly hours. He had brought a grinder with him, one that could be transported, but that didn’t make things any easier. With exhausted arms, he grinded the wood into oil, watching as it filled the small canisters easily. He poured oil into the already bright flame, the light intensifying even more.

The rush hit him like a wave of relief.

He didn’t feel so weak anymore. He felt like he had just gotten a good night’s rest and he poured three more bottles into the lantern. The Beat laughed, eyes seemingly growing brighter from the oil. “Feel better?” The God asked almost mockingly. “The flame will never go out, but a little oil never hurts.”

“I hate you,” Wirt felt the words slip past his lips, shrugging away from the God as he tried to extend a hand out to him.

“It makes no difference to me,” The Beast tilted his head in that mocking way of his. “It is still your task to bear the lantern.”

* * *

  _“Wirt, you watch your brother. Wirt, are you listening to me?”_

_Thirteen year old Wirt looked up from the book he was reading, sitting propped up against the apple tree in their front yard. The warm mid-summer sun warm against his face and the sounds of summer birds chirping happily. A breeze was here and there, but it was warm enough to not feel uncomfortable. His mother was busy gardening and his father had gone off with a group of men to go hunting for game._

_“Wirt!”_

_He set the book down, noticing his mother standing before him with hands on her hips and dark gray eyes narrowed. “Wirt, I need to go see Mrs. Daniel’s and make sure she’s doing alright. Please watch Greg. It’ll be an hour and a half at the most.”_

_He made a face. “Can’t you take him with you?”_

_His mother glared at him. “Are you arguing with me?”_

_“Fine,” he grumbled, not at all happy. “But why do I have to do it? I always have to watch him!”_

_“Because you’re the big brother,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “Can you just do this for me, please? Make sure he’s stays out of the cookie jar and don’t let him go into the woods,” she eyed the woods not too far from their home. “And don’t let him be climbing trees, either!”_

_She grabbed her basket, kissing Greg’s cheek before she headed off down the path towards Mrs. Daniel’s home. Wirt sighed in irritation as Greg took a spot next to him. “What do you want to do today, brother o’ mine?”_

_“Nothing,” he opened his book. “Go find a frog or something.”_

_“Awesome! I can do that?”_

_“Knock yourself out.”_

_“Oh boy!” Greg let out a giggle before taking off, running around in their front lawn. “I’ve always wanted a frog! I think I’d name him Wirt!”_

_Wirt looked up from his book, eyebrow raised in scorn. “That’s my name. Are you trying to confuse us?”_

_“No, you’re name is now Kitty.”_

_“Quit being stupid,” he rolled his eyes, setting his book back in his lap and dropping his gaze back down to the pages. “You really need to grow up, Greg. Greg? Greg, are you listening to me?”_

_He looked up from his book to see that Greg had disappeared. He instantly panicked, remembering exactly what his mother said. Shit, he was going to be in so much trouble! “Greg?” he called out, standing up. “Gregory, where are you? You come here right now!”_

_“What?” he heard Greg’s voice from up high. The little boy was up in a tree near the roof of their cabin, dangling from a branch. “I’m frog hunting!”_

_“Greg!” he dashed to the tree. “Greg, you’re going to get hurt! Oh my, what do I do? What do I do?”_

_“What’s wrong, big brother?” Greg asked innocently. “I’m fine! You should come join me as we look for our frog!”_

_“Our frog?” he momentarily forgot that his brother was literally dangling from a tree. “I never said I wanted a frog.”_

_“Sure you did,” Greg smiled._

_“No, I didn’t.”_

_“Yes you did!”_

_“Did not!”_

_He watched in dismay as Greg’s little fingers slipped from the branch and he tumbled down from the tree. The little boy let out an “Ohh!” before he hit the ground. Now Greg didn’t typically cry, but now he was sobbing, holding his knee. Wirt panicked, trying to ignore the small guilty feeling from rising in his chest. “Uh, stop crying?” he offered weakly. “Come on, Greg, don’t cry.”_

_“My knee!” the small boy lifted up his pant legs and showed him a rather red and bloody scrape. Greg sniffed, snot running out of his nose. “Wirt, my knee hurts!”_

_“Well that’s what you get for climbing a tree!” Wirt snapped, narrowing his eyes. He let out another sigh, before running a hand through his tussled dark brown hair. “I’ll be right back.”_

_He headed inside the cabin, opening one of the cabinets and pulling out the first aid kit. He headed back out, taking a damp cloth to wipe the blood away. Greg had stopped crying and was now watching him with wide eyes as Wirt gently placed a Band-Aid over his knee. He gave a little smile and stood up, instantly throwing his arms around Wirt’s waist. “Thank you!”_

_“Yeah, yeah, just don’t tell Mom.”_

* * *

 

He hadn’t seen The Beast for so many days, he lost count.

Life seemed to go on. No one came to visit him; he didn’t want to put anyone in danger. After a while, being a person who like solitude most of the time, he was lonely. Unbearably lonely. He would talk to just about anyone to have at least SOME company.

The loneliness was like a stab to the chest, at first. Now it was like a dull ache. He would talk to anyone. The animals he saw didn’t offer much conversation, though it surprised him how some of them knew how to talk. Yet the second they saw the lantern, the scrambled away from him, leaving him to his thoughts. He desperately wanted to shut them off, but the voice in his head was the only one he could talk to at this point.

He decided to take his chances one day. He had just filled the lantern with old and had plenty of energy, so he decided to tour The Unknown. The Beast wasn’t overly fond of daylight, so he disappeared. He knew he was probably stalking him from the shadows, but it was better than having to talk to him. He took the axe with him, just in case.

He couldn’t remember exactly where Lorna and Auntie Whispers lived, but he could find them later. Right now, the one person he wanted to see was Beatrice. He knew, from what she told him, she lived house where the Woodsman used to make the oil. He remembered where the house was, making his way to it.

It took him a good hour and a half, with the sun beating down his back. He was getting stronger from all the walking, but it didn’t make him feel any better. When Beatrice’s home came into sight, he smiled. Picking up the pace, he practically sprinted to her door.

“Beatrice?” he called out, knocking loudly on the door. “Beatrice, its Wirt. Beatrice? Beatrice?”

He looked through the window nearest to him, seeing the house from the inside. He hadn’t noticed it before; but it looked rather…empty. A good layer of dust had settled on the furniture and none of the lanterns were lit. Was Beatrice and her family still bluebirds? Why hadn’t she changed them back yet?

“Beatrice?” he asked as he opened the door. “Beatrice? Is anyone…oh my God!”

He wasn’t ready for the sight that fell before his eyes.

There Beatrice and her family were, all on the floor with bluebird feathers scattered all around them. He wretched at the smell of decay, emptying out the lunch he had before he left. He sat on all fours, heaving violently as the smell of dead flesh hit his nose. He landed right next to Beatrice’s body, the scissors still in her hand and dried tear marks on her rotting face.

“Beatrice?” he sniffed, placing a hand on hers. “Beatrice! No, you can’t be dead!”

But she was. He buried his face in her hand, sobs now wrecking his body. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, Beatrice. I should have known the scissors were a lie! I’m sorry, I can’t do anything right.”

She didn’t respond. She just stared blankly up at the ceiling. He let out a shriek as a long, fat worm crawled out of her nose and backed away, bumping into the body of one of her younger brothers. He threw up again, the smell of vomit making his nose itch. There was nothing left in his stomach by this point and now he just sat there dry heaving.

“You didn’t know about the scissors? A pity she thought she could trust a witch’s scissors.”

He sprinted from the house at The Beast’s voice, lantern swinging in his hand as he raced across her front yard. The Beast laughed in the distance and he wanted nothing more than to block out the sound with his hands.

“You can’t get away from me that easily,” The Beast appeared right in front of him. He crashed into the surprisingly solid God, lantern slipping from his grasp and landing on the floor with a gentle thud. It didn’t break, luckily, but now The Beast had him by the wrists. The God laughed as Wirt struggled, easily holding him in his grasp. “Now, now, there is no need to fight.”

“Beatrice…” he gasped, his eyes now red from crying. “She didn’t deserve this! Can’t you do anything?”

“No,” The Beast answered softly, thumbing the base of his wrist. “I can take life away, but I cannot return it. She should have never believed Adelaide’s words.”

“No!” he shook his head. “She can’t be dead! I…I can’t believe this!”

“Denial is supposedly the first stage of grief,” The Beast pondered thoughtfully. “Your human emotions are fascinating, but I’m growing tired of your crying.”

“Let me go,” he tried to pull away, but it was useless against the God’s firm grip.

In the end, after struggling some more, he threw himself into The Beast’s embrace. Wirt knew he wasn’t in the right frame of mind, but he didn’t care at this point. He’d just lost everyone he loved; he had no one. The only one who was here was The Beast and as much as he hated him, it felt nice to be held and have hands stroking his hair. It made him feel…safe.

The Beast let out a chuckle. “I thought you hated me.”

 Wirt didn’t answer, he just gripped his hands onto The Beast’s strange cloak that was made up of feathers and possible furs. His mind couldn’t tell what was right or wrong now, only that he needed physical contact.

“One day you’ll learn to love me,” he thought he heard The Beast murmur, but the only thing he registered after that was the fingers that pried their way into his mouth. Instantly, the sap like liquid filled his mouth and the world went hazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh Beatrice! I feel bad, but would any of you trust a bad witch's scissors? I wouldn't.


	4. A brother's despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wirt gets an upsetting realization and comes across a God who might just be as powerful as The Beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a handjob in this chapter, just so you guys know. I shortened this one up a bit more, but nothing too serious. This is like a mini prequel. Could have just been a oneshot, but whatever. Hope you guys had a Happy Thanksgiving, well to those who live in the US. I forgot to give you sympathy food in the last chapter, so take all this leftover pie as an apology! *Hands out pie*

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

Winter changed to spring, then spring to summer, and so on. Of course, some days it would be boiling hot after snowing, so he didn’t really know for sure. After a couple years, he lost count and didn’t bother to keep track. What was the use? He was still stuck here with no way out.

He sat wrapped up in a quilt, fixing a few loose patches with thread. The winter wind howled outside, the wind low and sorrowful sounding. He lit a fire to keep himself warm and in an hour so he’d make something to eat, but that did little to ease his sadness and boredom. The Beast was lurking around somewhere; he didn’t know where and quite frankly it did bother him, but what could he do?

“Ouch!” he let out a cry as he pricked his finger on the needle, immediately suckling on the wound. He removed himself from his safe haven, immediately running the small wound under water. The fire crackled in the hearth, sending waves of warmth over his body. He couldn’t see outside very well; snow and ice had covered the windows and the wind kept howling at the door. If it broke down, he didn’t know what he’d do.

He returned to his makeshift nest, taking up the needle and resuming his work. Tedious, but it needed to be done.

“Whatcha doin?”

He let out an undignified shriek, falling off the bed at the sound of the voice. He looked up to see a golden triangle floating before him, eye looking down on him in what appeared to be amusement. Wirt scooted back against the bed, eyes wide. “What the…who are you? What are you doing in my house?”

“You mean Adelaide’s house?” the triangle laughed. “The name’s Bill Cipher, another wonderful God of this forest. And I know all about you, Wirt.”

Another God, why was he not surprised? Wirt narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t invite you in; you can’t just…appear in someone’s house!”

“Sure I can!” Bill laughed, eye closing as his body shook. “I do what I want, Lover boy!”

He frowned. “Don’t call me that,” he rolled his eyes. “What a stupid nickname. Why would anyone call me that?”

“Don’t know,” the way Bill spoke made it sound like he knew. “Maybe because that’s what old Cernunnos calls you.”

The Beast’s name caught his attention. “He talks about me?”

“Oh sure. He never shuts up about you,

“He doesn’t?” The question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “Wait, why would The Beast be speaking about me?”

Bill just seemed all too pleased. “Why wouldn’t he be? It’s been over ten years, Lover boy. Ten very long years and none of us have ever received a chance to see Cerny’s new lantern-bearer.”

The fact that Bill sounded happy about that creeped Wirt out. “You get to see The Beast every day?”

“Oooh, looks like someone’s jealous,” Bill laughed again. “When was the last time you spoke to someone, kid?”

“…A few days ago?”

“Ha, you don’t even know!” If Bill had a mouth, he was certain that the triangular God would be grinning. “Look, why don’t we make a deal. All you would have to do is owe me a small favor.”

Wirt raised an eyebrow. “Why would I make a deal with you?”

“I could free you from the lantern,” Bill offered, eye glowing blue for a moment. “You could go home; return to your family. Bet your little brother’s a teenager now. And in return, I just ask for a favor. Nothing more than that.”

The very thought of being free from the lantern made his eyes widen. He looked towards the red colored lantern, watching as his life force danced around in the glass container. “You could unbind me from The Beast?”

“Sure I can!” Bill sat down the edge of the bed. “I can do LOTS of things, Lover boy.”

“I don’t know,” something was telling him not to trust this God. He couldn’t explain it; he had no reason to not trust him, but something was off. He was too…unpredictable. “I don’t think The Beast would like that.”

“Aw, it’s like you’re his own little puppet,” Bill sneered. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life carrying both your souls?”

A long time ago, no would have been his immediate answer. Now, he just looked to the lantern. “But he would get mad. He might find me and hurt Greg or my parents. I can’t have him be mad at me.”

Bill just stared at him. “Wow kid, you’re more far along than I thought. Well, I’ll be leaving now.”

“But you just got here! Don’t leave!”

“Kid, I have better things to do,” Bill snapped his fingers, his cane appearing. “Then babysit Cernunnos’ pet.”

Before Wirt could protest, the God vanished in a flash of golden light. Wirt found himself alone again; the cold numb feeling icing its way through his veins. He felt sick, like he was going to throw up. The loneliness was getting out of hand. There were nights, more often than not, where he couldn’t sleep. He used to enjoy reading and writing poetry, but now it felt bland. There was nothing to do; nothing to distract him.

He curled into a ball onto the floor, resting his head in his hands. He didn’t cry; the last time he cried was…ten years ago, when he found Beatrice. How had ten years slipped by? Had he really lost track of time? Did that mean he missed a majority of Greg’s life? He had missed watching his brother grow up. He didn’t know what hurt more.

“Why are you on the floor, boy?”

The Beast’s voice was comforting, like a blanket draping over him on a cold winter’s night. The shadowy God loomed over him, eyes narrowed. Wirt blinked up at him. “How long have I been with you?” he asked, genuinely curious to see if Bill was telling the truth or not.

“…Ten years,” The Beast replied softly. ‘’The weather in The Unknown is unpredictable. Weather Gods are a bit…fickle, or so to say.”

Wirt fell silent, staring down at the wooden floorboard. So Bill had been telling the truth. He’d been stuck in The Unknown for ten long years. The information should have made him sad, but he felt nothing. Ten years was nothing. There was nothing left anymore. Nothing, except the God standing right in front of him.

“So quiet now,” The Beast murmured, a gnarled hand running over his cheek. “What is bothering you?”

“Nothing,” Wirt lied, refraining from mentioning Bill. He didn’t need The Beast to be angry with him. He nuzzled his cheek into the palm of The Beast’s hand. The Beast’s other hand threaded through his hair, and Wirt sighed in contentment from the touch.

The Beast chuckled. “Such a needy boy,” his thumb lightly graced his bottom lip, the rest of his fingers lightly tracing his cheek. “You’ve been good lately; not fussing when I ask you to do something. I got you a gift for being so good and complacent.”

Wirt just sat there, waiting patiently as the God pulled something from out of nowhere and plopped it in his lap. A clarinet; shiny and surprisingly made of wood. More specifically, Edelwood. “Thank you,” he blinked, cradling the instrument to his chest. How long had it been since he had played? Oh right, ten years. “Thank you, Beast.”

“Your manners are improving,” The Beast smirked. He had gotten used to telling the God’s emotions over the last few years, judging by the tone of his voice. “You used to be so ungrateful. You still are to certain degree, but less so.”

He stood up, letting the clarinet sit on the nightstand near his bed and threw his arms around the God. He nuzzled his face into the dark chest, sighing deeply. In the early years, The Beast would only caress his face or slide his hands through his hair, but now Wirt got full contact. The Beast was the only God he’d seen over the last few years and even though it was for being the lantern bearer, he still loved being touched.

It made him feel safe; like he belonged.

“Stay with me,” Wirt let his fingers dig into the fabric of the God’s cloak. “Don’t leave me alone! I…I can’t be alone anymore. Just stay with me, please.”

“…Since you asked so nicely, I will stay for a little longer.”

The Beast removed his hand from his face, fingers dancing down his body to the hem of his pants. He whimpered, finding this very odd. His step father had explained how babies were made, but other than that, he had never been touched _there_ before. His mother had said that he should wait till marriage and then explore with his wife, but this felt great.

He let The Beast push him back onto the bed, his face now flushed red. He couldn’t meet The Beast’s eyes, cheeks now hot from the weird, yet pleasant sensation stirring at the pit of his stomach. “This feels…weird,” he flushed darker as The Beast gave a laugh.

“Should I stop then?” The Beast asked mockingly.

“No!” Wirt cried out as the God cupped him, voice cracking.

The Beast didn’t say anything after that, his hand slowly; _unbearably slowly_ up and down his shaft. He let out little moans of pleasure, head flopping back onto the pillows. When The Beast used his thumb over the head, his back arched off the bed, letting out a throaty moan while the God continued his ministrations.

He didn’t remember coming until the God wiped the sticky white substance off his fingers and onto the quilt. He didn’t even care that he would have to wash it now; he just felt extremely satisfied. And tired. He curled up into his blankets, The Beast staring at him with those strange glowing eyes, full of emotions he couldn’t identify.

But for now, all he wanted to do was sleep.

* * *

 

**(The Beast)**

Cernunnos was usually a calm, relaxed God that usually displayed little emotions. Anger was certainly not one he expressed usually despite being around idiotic Gods who had no sense of decency.

Like the Goddess standing in front him right now, sword outstretched and ready to be used.

“Really, _Astarte,_ ” he sneered at her, watching her falter a little bit. “You truly thought you could hide the boy from me? All lost souls who enter my domain of The Unknown belong to me. Hand over the boy.”

Astarte glared at him, the sword rising ever so slightly. The boy in green overalls slept peacefully behind her, not looking a day over eight years old. “Never,” she hissed. “I will protect him, even if it costs me my life. I owe him that much.”

“You’ve had him for what, eight years now? You made him immortal, I see. Does little Gregory know his brother belongs to me?”

“…No,” she frowned, looking almost guilty. “I didn’t tell him that. I just…”

“Wanted to protect him? How noble and selfless of you,” his voice, condescending, made her face pale. “You knew that I would turn him into a tree. The last thing I want is for Wirt to go after his brother.”

“Do you think he’d blow out the lantern?” she asked bravely. “And end your existence?”

A part of him wanted to strike her down for being so insolent, but she had a point. She was terrified of him, but nothing worried him more than the boy blowing out the lantern. Ever since they’d come to this realm, he’d been bound to the damn lantern. By some rather annoying God, but that could be dealt with later. “If you tell Gregory, I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “Kill me! But if you touch Gregory, I will-“

The God laughed threateningly. “No, killing you would be too merciful and selfless. Let me correct my previous statement. If you let Gregory come near Wirt, I will kill him. Slowly; painfully, in every way that he or you fears.”

Her face was frozen, images of the things she feared flashing over her as she stared into his eyes. “You’re a monster,” she snarled, snapping out of the trance. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Your petty words mean little to me.”

“I will keep Gregory away from Wirt, but only to protect him from you,” she sheathed her sword, picking the sleeping boy up. “In return, you must keep Wirt away from Gregory.”

“I will do that.”

She didn’t look very happy about this arrangement, but she cradled the child closer to her. He titled his head. “Why this human child?”

She paused, looking at him disdainfully. “He reminds me of him. The God I left behind when we were kicked out of our realm.”

“I see.”

She adjusted the boy in her arms, reaching into her bag strapped to her side. A small, ornately carved wooden box now in her hands. She glared. “If you fail to keep your end of the bargain, I will open the box.”

“You will do no such thing!” he felt his power rise and suddenly, she looked very afraid. Good. The last thing he needed was for that box to be opened. “If you ever do that again, I will kill the boy and make you watch! Then, I’ll kill you or let you do the honors yourself.”

She sneered back at him. “I will not die,” she growled, putting the box away. “I never believed in this place until recently. I will not let you harm Gregory.”

“Then keep him away.”

She hissed inhumanely at him, walking away with the sleeping child in her arms. He glared at the box peeking out from her satchel.

He was the God of Fear, unchallenged and respected among the others. He didn’t need anyone coming up and challenging him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe one day I'll make a playlist for this series. I listen to too much Phantom of the Opera.


	5. A brother's realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wirt sees Bill again and learns something about The Beast he didn't know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone! Hope you've been enjoying the chapters so far! Only three more to go on this one. The next update for Beyond the Castle walls should be soon, so stay tuned. Have some cookies *throws cookies*

The Beast was on edge.

Wirt watched him from the corner of his eye as he chipped away at more Edelwood. The powerful strikes against the wood felt hollow to his ears, bits of oil from the trees flicking onto his lips and some chips of wood getting caught in his hair. It didn’t bother him, though, nothing did anymore. Not even the sprinkles of rain that pelted wetly onto his head and back.

No, the only thing that bothered him right now was the silent, yet clearly agitated, Beast. The shadowy God paced back and forth across the clearing in front of him, muttering an old language that no human could pronounce. Aside from the lantern resting nearby on an old tree stump, the only light that could be seen was from the God’s glowing eyes, which seemed to be glowing brighter with each word that was stated.

_Chop, chop, chop…_

Wirt let out a cough as some of the oil landed in his mouth. He dropped the axe, furiously wiping the liquid out of his mouth. It stained his tongue and lips black, the foul taste clogging up his nose in an unpleasant way. He spit the liquid out of his mouth and into the grass by his feet. It stained the grass, the blades wilting and crumbling under the weight of the oil. Whatever the oil was made out of, apparently it was strong enough to kill nature. Who knew?

With a sigh, he picked up the axe and resumed to his work. He didn’t have very long to go; the tree was mostly a stump now, but gathering every piece of wood he could would save him time and give him more oil so he wouldn’t have to go scouring the forest for trees.

As he chopped the tree, The Beast ceased his chanting. He turned to Wirt with those hauntingly beautiful eyes. He tried to ignore the God, but it was kind of difficult with those eyes boring into his face. Was The Beast mad at him? Did he do something? He couldn’t have him be angry with him!

“Beast?”

The Beast only stared at him. “Yes?”

“Did I…do something?” he dropped the axe, letting it lie next to the Edelwood tree that was now reduced down to a stump. He walked towards the God, eyes downcast. “If I made you angry, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you!”

The Beast blinked once before a laugh erupted from his throat. A hand reached out, stroking his face in an almost tender manner. “How pitiful of you to worry yourself like that,” he laughed and a long time ago, Wirt would have been offended, but it had been ten years and The Beast was the only one left now. “No, boy, you did not do anything. But you can go back to doing what I told you to do. Go on and finish your work.”

With a sullen face at being snapped at, Wirt went back to gathering the branches of Edelwood. The tree hadn’t been a very tall one, so the branches were smaller and less than what he wanted last week he had found a huge tree that would supply enough oil for a year. It took him the whole night and the rest of the next day to chop it down and several trips back to his home to deposit the wood into the box.

Quietly, as to not anger the God, he put the wood onto the device strapped to his back. Once he made sure all of it was there, he picked up the lantern and strapped the axe back to his belt. He walked morosely back to his home, opening the door and returning to an existence of solitude. With trudging footsteps, he dumped the wood into the nearly full box, setting the carrier on his back next to the box. The lantern sat on the table, flickering strongly as always.

He took a seat at the table, a finger pressing against the glass of the lantern lightly. It burned a little from the strength of the heat, but he paid little mind to it. Outside, the rain turned from a light sprinkle into a downpour. Thunder rumbled in the distance and for a moment, he felt afraid. When he was little, and his father was still alive, he would crawl into his parents’ bed. His mother would laugh and hold him, pressing kisses to his face and his father would stroke his hair. They would let him lay between them and sleep in their bed. That was the only time they allowed him to do that, though.

He slumped in the chair, chin resting on the table underneath his arms. He watched the flame flicker, almost like a dance. He felt a tightness in his throat, thinking long and hard of his family. The bitterness was there too, remembering now that they had probably moved on by this point. Greg probably had a girlfriend, Sara was probably married to Jason Funderberker, and his parents, well, he wasn’t sure. Was his mother pregnant when he and Greg disappeared? He couldn’t remember, nor was particularly upset about it either.

“What’s eaten you, kid?”

He scrambled at the sound of that voice, falling off the chair with a clunk. The chair had tipped over, landing on the ground loudly. The owner of the voice, Bill Cipher, laughed. “Relax kid, it’s like you haven’t had company in a while.”

Wirt glared at him. “That’s because I haven’t,” he grumbled, standing up and adjusting his clothes. He knew his knee was bruised because of the way it hurt to move, but that was the least of his problems right now. “What do you want? I didn’t invite you over here.”

“Oh, your words wound me,” Bill feigned hurt, his singular eye narrowing in amusement. “I just came to see how this poor little fleshie was doing. Is that so bad?”

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine,” Wirt snapped, not trusting this God for a minute. There was something…off about him. Like he wasn’t in the right frame of mind. What was he the God of again? Did he even tell him? “So, you can leave now.”

“Without hearing what I have to say? You’re so mean!” Bill laughed, whirling one finger in clockwise motion. The door flew open, letting rain into the house and Wirt let out a disgusted shriek when teeth landed in his hands. “Deer teeth, for you!”

“That’s disgusting! Gross!”

Bill shook his head. “Oh, you young people, no appreciation for my gifts anymore,” he spun his finger again and disturbingly, the deer teeth flew away to God knows where. Bill floated towards him, that little golden cane in his hand and spinning lazily with the flick of his wrist. “I came here to offer you a deal, lover boy.”

“What?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me. You did outsmart Cerny, at least for a few minutes,” Bill chuckled. “I found that interesting so I wanted to offer you a deal. I can take you back home, remember?”

Wirt paused, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the God. “Why would you want to help me? What’s in it for you?”

“Oh, you’ll just owe me a small favor, nothing too big,” Bill chuckled, right hand bursting into blue flame. “So, do we have a deal?”

“I don’t know,” Wirt glanced at the lantern. “The Beast wouldn’t like that.”

“Of course he won’t, that’s why we’re making a deal,” Bill reasoned, though Wirt could have sworn he sounded a bit…impatient. “Tick tock, kid. I haven’t got all day.”

“What would your favor be?”

“Damn, you’re smart,” Bill crooned. “Fine, I’ll tell you. In return for me allowing you back home, you have to blow out the lantern.”

“WHAT?” Wirt normally didn’t have outbursts like that, but the offer sounded ridiculous! He stepped back away from Bill, grabbing the lantern and holding it tightly to his chest. “Do you know what will happen if I blow this out? I’ll die!”

He was astounded by the fact that Bill still didn't seem to care. “Would it be so bad to die? Your meatbag lives are so...brief.” The God began, all amusement draining from his voice. In fact, if Wirt didn’t know better, Bill almost sounded nervous. “I didn’t think you could bind more than one soul, but who knew? Wow, damn, well this changes everything.”

The God chortled in amusement and extended his hand out further. “Alright, so I won’t have you blow it out. I can return you home with your soul intact and all. In return, you have to blow out the lantern and end Cerny’s life. Do we have a deal?”

“I…” Wirt looked to the lantern, the flame teasing him as a reminder that his life was fueling the canister. “If I blow it out, I can go home?”

“That’s right!”

He felt his hand extending, fingers itching to take hold of Bill’s hand. Was this right? Could he trust the God? What if The Beast found out and came after him? What if he hurt Greg and his parents? What if…what if he killed them? Turned them all into Edelwood and then take him back into the forest for eternity? “I…” he took his hand back, stepping away from Bill. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Why Bill, how nice of you to pay a visit.”

Wirt let out a surprised yelp at the hands that gripped his shoulders tightly. The Beast stared at Bill with an expression that Wirt could not read, but nonetheless felt afraid. The power emanating from the God was strong, making him shake and feel cold to the bone. Bill, didn’t seem affected, but what did he know? This was only his second encounter with the triangle God.

“Cerny!” Bill greeted, waving a hand. “How have you been? Your branches are looking good. I never got around to asking, but how do you like being bound to the lantern?”

The Beast didn’t respond to that last question, but Wirt winced when hands dug into his shoulders. “What are you doing, bothering my lantern-bearer? Is your boredom that great?”

“Oh no,” Bill sneered back to the God, eye narrowed in distaste. “I just wanted to get a rile out of you. It must be fun being bound to a lantern.”

“Would you like to find out? I could easily bind you, Cipher. But I won’t.”

“Why not? Don’t have enough power, do you?”

Wirt felt the fear fall to his stomach. He knew The Beast was smiling; he could just sense it. “I’m not the one who will bind you, Cipher. There will be someone to bind you, Bill. That person may not be here yet, but you will fall. You will never take what it is mine. Surely you should know that by now.”

Bill’s eye turned red with anger and his body mass seemed to grow just slightly. It didn’t break down the house, but Wirt found that he was too paralyzed to move. Bill’s voice had dropped down to a low octave, making him sound more dangerous. “Remember who bound you to that lantern,” Bill snarled inhumanly. “I could kill you! I could kill you right now!”

 “You could try,” The Beast growled, stepping away from Wirt and to the other God. “But you won’t. I am older than you and more powerful, Bill. I was the first God to emerge from the box and appear to the humans. I remember far more than you do and while you may have emerged later and be the second most powerful, I can still take you down.”

“Want to put that to the test?”

“Only if you wish to die. I will gladly end your life, Cipher.”

Bill lunged at The Beast, tackling him onto the ground before receiving a powerful kick that sent him spiraling outside. The Beast had a sword drawn from out of nowhere, decorated with branches and thorns. It looked deadly and Wirt scooted away from it, not wanting to receive its blow. Bill’s cane had changed slightly, now longer and sharper.

The two Gods attacked each other in a fury of gold and shadows. Wirt couldn’t even look at the two of them for very long; the light from Bill hurting his eyes. He couldn’t tell who was winning, only that the two of them were very skilled fighters. The Beast flicked his hand to the right, muttering something and Edelwood branches trapped Bill. It was only for a moment, for a pair of golden pliers appeared and snapped the branches away.

How had he done that? How could someone just make things appear? Apparently Bill, who kept summoning devices to combat The Beast with. The Beast, for the most part, was overpowering Bill. While the triangle God kept summoning objects, Cernunnos defeated them with ease. He used little magic, whether that was because he couldn’t use it very well or what, but it made little difference. He was still overpowering Bill, and Bill was beginning to realize this.

“You cannot win, Bill,” The Beast spoke calmly, dancing away from Bill’s attacks. “Give up, you won’t win. If this keeps up, you’ll burn yourself out and die. I’m sure Jill would not like that, now would she?”

“Jill can’t stop me from killing you!”

“Bill!”

The two Gods ceased fighting as a new voice entered the front yard. Wirt watched with wide eyes as a woman, with silky strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes entered the yard from a path in the forest. She was dressed simply, the white of her gown not dirtied from the dirt and other materials of The Unknown. Bill stepped away from The Beast, the golden yellow color of his form now brighter than ever. The woman didn’t appear affected, she only looked mildly annoyed.

Bill’s form changed in front of Wirt’s very eyes. Instead of a triangle, it was a man in a dapper yellow suit with tail coats trailing at the end of his coat. The top hat and the cane were there, but instead of a triangle body, it was that of a young man. With neat golden blonde hair and that black top hat, the only thing that made him stand out even more was the black eyepatch over his right eye. If there was an eye there, that is.

“Jill, you always have to ruin my fun!” he grumbled, standing a few inches taller than her. “Why won’t you let me have fun?”

“Because you’re going to hurt someone,” she reasoned calmly, looking to Wirt with gentle, relaxed eyes. “And this fight is pointless. You’re not going to win; not with the limited power you have now. You know that if you keep going like this, you’ll burn out and then I’ll have to drag your sorry ass home.”

If Wirt didn’t know any better, he could have sworn Bill was getting chewed out by this woman, Jill. Were they siblings or something? Bill sighed, rolling his one eye. “Fine, since you think you know best, sister.”

“Good. And I do know best.”

She nodded her head in greeting towards The Beast, giving Wirt a tiny smile as she waltzed away towards the path in which she entered from. Bill followed, shooting The Beast a nasty look before disappearing in the thick brush and trees. The front yard went silent, the only sounds being that of the thunder booming occasionally and the rain pelting against the ground and house.

The wind was knocked out of him as he was pushed back into the house. The Beast held him in his grasp, gnarled hands digging into his body painfully. Wirt cried out, struggling against the hold that clearly overpowered him. “ _Lover boy,_ ” The Beast snarled, Edelwood replacing the hands holding him. The God’s hands forced him to face him, eyes boring cruelly into his eyes. “Just what were you thinking, hm? Making a deal with Bill Cipher, of all the Gods here.”

“I…I’m sorry!” he groaned in pain as the nails dug into his flesh. “I wasn’t going to do it! I swear!”

“Interesting,” The Beast didn’t sound very interested. “If that is the case, then why do I not believe you?”

“It’s true! I swear!”

“Really? And what was he promising you?”

Wirt paused, staring into the God’s eyes. “He…promised to take me home. To unbind me from the lantern and allow me to go back to my family. But I told him no; it wasn’t a good idea.”

The angry, harsh light from The Beast’s eyes vanished. The vines left his body and Wirt let out a sigh of relief. The Beast stroked his hair almost lovingly. “You poor misguided boy,” the God shook his head in disappointment. “There is no going back. Cipher lied to you; he is not trustworthy. That stunt he just pulled was out of boredom, but you must never strike up a deal with him again.”

“I won’t! I swear!”

He wrapped his arms around the God’s neck, nuzzling his face into his chest. The Beast laughed, continuing to thread his hands through Wirt’s hair. Wirt let out a sigh of contentment, enjoying being near The Beast’s comforting embrace. After a moment of silence, he looked up into the glowing eyes. “Beast?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have a form like Bill’s? A human one?”

The hands paused for a moment, the God tilting his head upwards to look at him. “Yes,” he replied slowly, carefully. “But I have to use a lot of energy to use it. My power is limited here.”

“Why?”

“Why so many questions?” The Beast asked, giving a small chuckle. “I’ll answer one question of yours. Cipher is the reason we Gods are here. Most Gods here hate him, aside from Jill. He is the God of Insanity and he’s too unstable for anyone to be near him. At least, for now.”

Well, if that wasn’t cryptic, he didn’t know what was. “Who’s Jill?” he asked.

“She’s his counterpart, the Goddess of Sanity. When we were born, they arrived at the same time. They consider each other siblings and she’s one of the only Gods who can be near him.”

“Do all Gods have counterparts?”

“Yes.”

“Do you?”

“No,” The Beast answered quickly, cupping his cheek lightly. “I have no counterpart. Fear has no counterpart.”

Oh, so then he was the God of Fear. That explained a lot. Not on how he got bound to a lantern, but he knew that the God was most likely not going to tell him that. “I’m sorry,” he spoke softly, resting his forehead against the God’s chest. “I won’t agree to anything Cipher offers again.”

“Good,” The Beast sounded triumphant.

Wirt’s hands wrapped tighter around the God’s neck, reaching up on his tiptoes to kiss the corner of his mouth. Or, where he thought his mouth was, anyway. It was like kissing a tree, the bark firm and warm against his lips. When he pulled back, The Beast looked at him with those odd, yet enchanting eyes. “Do you wish to see my other form?”

He couldn’t find the words, but he nodded his head yes.

It didn’t happen right away; it was a rather slow transformation. The branches on his head seemed to evaporate into smoke, his body taking on a more solid looking form. The God standing before him now was tall, even taller than Bill had been in his human form. His hair was a dark sandy blonde and his skin was strikingly pale. He looked human, but he had an inhuman air about him. Wirt knew if appeared in the village, he would definitely get attention. The eyes, however, remained the same and were now a very pale, almost colorless gray.

He was also very, very handsome and Wirt had to fight down his urge to blush like a schoolgirl. The Beast smirked, tilting his chin upwards. “What’s the matter?” the God purred, thumbing his bottom lip delicately. “Cat got your tongue?”

Wirt found he couldn’t even speak; to shocked to say anything. The Beast leaned down to press his firm lips hard against his own. Wirt gasped, bringing his hands to wrap around the now human looking God. He melted into the kiss, allowing the God to pry open his mouth with his tongue. It felt weird to be kissed like this and he remembered seeing his step-father kiss his mother like this once. Of course they parted the minute they saw him, but what he saw could not be unseen.

He moaned into the kiss; teenage hormones now rising up. He pressed his body more firmly against the God’s, removing his hands to run them down the God’s body. He felt excited when he felt the toned muscles underneath The Beast’s dark clothing. The God was lean and firm, a combination that Wirt was beginning to like.

The God let go of his lips, allowing Wirt to get some much needed air. “W…wow,” was all Wirt managed to get out, wiping away the string of saliva now hanging from his mouth. “Just…wow.”

The God only laughed. “I see you are impressed,” his face was more expressive now; easier to read. He cupped Wirt’s face with cool hands. Wirt leaned into the touch, smiling in contentment at the fluttery feeling coursing through his body.

If this was wrong, he didn’t care. He just let the God kiss him again, ignoring the rest of The Unknown and trying to forget the strange day that had occurred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what to do! See ya next time!


	6. A brother's desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wirt remembers a memory of his mother and things heat up between him and The Beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, thanks to everyone who left a comment! I bring you more comfort food! *Hands out devil's food cake to everyone* I'm debating on just having seven chapters or just leaving it at eight. Tell me what you think! I'll still decide in the end, but I like to hear everyone's feedback. I probably won't be updating anything again till after next Friday because of Finals, but I will be working on this series as a stress reliever. Thanks to everyone's support! You guys are the best!
> 
> Okay, really quick note and then I'll shut up. I've been thinking about starting another story (After this one is finished!) Where Wirt and Greg move to Gravity Falls and meet the Pines family and learn a bunch of stuff about themselves and the town. Okay, I'm done. Tell me what you think!

_When Wirt was a small child, he would always help his mother with their garden._

_“This is Yin Tsai,” she explained to him, dark gray eyes; sometimes appearing black, holding a wisdom he hoped to gain in the years to come. “It’s a type of spinach that is grown in China and I have been harvesting it ever since I was a little child, just like you.”_

_“I’m not little; I’m a man!” he pouted, puffing up his chest in a show of bravado. His mother tried to conceal her laugh by covering her mouth, but he could see the corners of her lips turn up._

_“Of course you are,” she ruffled his hair affectionately, the messy dark locks becoming even more disoriented. “You’re my strong little man.”_

_She gave his forehead a quick peck before resuming her work, gently grabbing the spinach and pulling them out, setting them in the basket next to her. Their garden sat right against the right wall of their cabin. Different vegetables ranging from Yin Tsai to Pei Sai, a small white cabbage, grew along their garden. Of course they had seeds from the market nearby in the village, but his mother had seeds from when she was a small girl from a country she claimed was very far away._

_“Your father used to be a merchant,” she started up again, brushing the dirt off her hands and standing up, the basket propped up against her hip. “He came to my country by sea and met me. My family did not want me to marry him, but love is a strong emotion, Walter,” she only used his real name when she was being serious. “We courted for many months in secret before I eloped with him and returned with him here. We married and then had you soon after.”_

_He followed her into the house, setting the basket of cabbage and white radish on the counter. “And you had me…” he held up his fingers, counting slowly and carefully. “Nine years later, right?”_

_“Close,” she laughed, hands resting on her pregnant stomach. “We had you a year later, so that was ten years ago.”_

_He made a face, looking at her stomach in distaste. “If you loved Daddy, then why did you marry Dave?”_

_Her face fell and for a moment, he regretted asking that. She looked to the picture of his father resting above the fire place and he knew she was remembering the winter in which he died. Almost four years ago coming this winter. “I love both your father and Dave. If I hadn’t met Dave, I think the grief would have consumed me,” he had no idea what she was talking about, but he nodded for her to continue her story. “But don’t think for a minute that I love your father any less than Dave. Gregory holds a very special place in my heart, Wirt. As do you, Dave, and your future brother or sister.”_

_“I don’t want a sister,” he grumbled. “Girls are weird.”_

_“You won’t always think that,” she teased, a sly smirk on her lips. “One day you’ll find a nice girl and settle down with her.”_

_“No way!”_

_From what he’d been told, his father had been killed in an accident. Only years later would he discover that was false, but for the time being, he believed it to be a horrible accident. His mother sighed, reaching into the silverware drawer to pull out some blades that she used for different cutting and crafting. “Wirt,” she started calmly, gazing out the window to where the sun was shining brightly against the sky. “I know it’s your birthday, but I’m going to give you something very special. It’s going to hurt, but I promise it will be over with quickly.”_

_“What is it?”_

_She drew up her right sleeve, turning her wrist to show him the small tattoo on her smooth clear skin. It was a symbol from her country, that’s all he knew, but he didn’t know what it meant. He drew away from her, gazing at the sharp knives with worry. “Is it going to hurt?”_

_“For a little bit, but I promise you that it won’t hurt for very long.” She reassured him, placing a pot of boiling water over the fireplace, placing a knife it. “I’ll sterilize this knife first so we avoid infection.”_

_He winced, but nodded anyway. She noted for him to sit down on a kitchen chair and pulled his sleeve back, his pale skin the same shade as hers. “What’s this for?” he asked, watching as she pulled a bottle of ink from the desk drawer of the table. “I thought only mean guys had tattoos?”_

_“It’s the symbol of our family; my family,” she told him gently, eyes not meeting his as she was concentrated on her work. “Before I married your father and took his last name, Palmer, my last name was Liang. My mother did the same thing I’m doing to you and her mother did it to her. The symbol of our family has been passed down through many generations.”_

_It hurt, more than he thought it would. He didn’t cry though; biting his bottom lip furiously to prevent himself from appearing like a baby. He was a big boy and big boys didn’t cry. He couldn’t focus on what she was doing, so he stared out the window, watching the woodland animals that would play in their yard. A few deer came out occasionally and he tried to focus on them instead of the pain on his wrist. A few tears slipped down his cheeks, but he refused to cry out, turning his face away from the window to look at the picture of his father on the fire mantle._

_He was a lot like his father, or so his mother said. Tall and very handsome, was how she described him. His memory of him was fuzzy, considering he’d only been five when he died. He had his dark brown hair and his aquiline nose and thin lips, and when he laughed, his mother said he sounded like his father as well. From his mother, he had her dark eyes and eye shape; skin tone as well. He was a combination of their love, or so she told him many times before._

_He didn’t know how much time had passed, the cuckoo clock was right behind him and his mother had reminded him to remain absolutely still so she didn’t mess up. The knife stung against his skin, the blade still a bit hot from when his mother had placed it in boiling water minutes before. His mother hummed some lullaby in her home language, dark eyes not meeting his._

_“There,” she said, placing the knife on the table and stood up to grab the first aid kit. “Now I’ll wrap it up so it doesn’t get infected. We’ll change the bandages every day to keep the cut clean, alright?”_

_“Okay,” he sniffed, wiping his eyes. He looked down, eyes widening at the symbol on his sore wrist._

_梁 The symbol of the Liang clan. His clan._

_“You did very well, Wirt,” she took his wrist gently, wrapping the long white bandage around it carefully. “Took it like a champ. My littlest brother cried the entire time he got his tattoo, but not you. You’re my strong, brave boy. One day, when you have children of your own, you'll pass it down to them.”_

_He smiled at the praise, cheeks turning pink. “Thank you, Mama,” he said softly, hugging her the second she was done wrapping the bandage around his wrist._

_“You’re welcome, Wirt,” she kissed his head, and very carefully, he placed his hand on her stomach. He allowed himself to grin when he felt the kick. His mother laughed, placing her hand over his. “See? Your brother or sister loves you already.”_

_“I still don’t want a sibling,” he retorted, looking distastefully at her stomach. “They’ll get all your attention.”_

_“No they won’t,” she shook her head. “You’ll still be my one and only Wirt, Walter.”_

_Of course, four months later the midwife delivered a chubby baby boy into his step-father’s arms. The dark blonde haired man kneeled down to Wirt’s eyelevel, a happy smile on his face. “You have a brother, Wirt,” the man grinned, watching as the baby stretched his arms out in his direction. “Do you want to hold him?”_

_“No,” Wirt replied, but his step-father just put the baby is his arms anyway._

_He would never say it out loud, but he secretly liked his baby brother just a little. Even if he was his half-brother._

* * *

 

When he found out it was May, Wirt didn’t know how to feel. He was lying out in a field of sunflowers, staring up at the sky with the lantern perched right next to him. The sky was a brilliant blue, the bluest he’d ever seen in his time in The Unknown. The Beast had told him earlier that morning another year had passed and it was now May 16. Eleven years had passed since he arrived in The Unknown.

More importantly though, it was Greg’s birthday today. He would be seventeen years old today.

“Happy birthday, Greg,” he murmured up into the sky, allowing a small feeling of sadness to burn at his chest. “Hope you’re having a good time without me.”

He stretched his arms over his head, a sensation of relief flooding over as he felt his shoulders pop. Standing up, he grabbed the lantern and made his way back to the cabin. The sunflower field felt too cheery for his mood anyway. Why he thought it was a good idea to sit in one was an idea that boggled his mind too much.

The cabin hadn’t changed too much in the last few years. Of course, ivy vines had grown along the slate gray bricks and the chimney needed to be cleaned for when winter came. The last thing he needed was to burn his house down. He opened the door to the small home, a part of him wishing his mother and father were there. Alright, his step-father too, but mostly he just wanted to go home.

However, that wasn’t possible. He had accepted that a long time ago, but some dreams just could never die it seemed.

“Must you always look so troubled?”

The Beast’s voice sent goosebumps crawl up his arms. Standing near the table, the shadow God lay his gnarly hands on a chair, the other hand grazing the lantern handle, careful not to actually go near the light. He hadn’t been doing anything until The Beast appeared; he’d just been kind of standing around in deep thought. Now he smiled at the God, relieved to have company. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I was just…thinking.”

“About what?”

“It’s Greg’s birthday,” he replied without even questioning as to why The Beast would care. “He’s seventeen today.”

“Well, congratulations to him,” he couldn’t tell if the God was being sincere or not, but he didn’t care. He let the God wrap his long arms around him, leaning his head into the hands now pressing against his skull. “How should we celebrate, hm?”

“Celebrate?” he asked, a little confused as to why the God would want to celebrate Greg’s birthday. “Why would you want to do that?”

“We’re having a little gathering tonight,” The Beast explained casually, not caring if he took Wirt by surprise. “I think you’re tame enough now to show you off to the others.”

“O…okay,” he nodded, still very unsure about this, but The Beast probably knew best. He was older and so much more powerful than he would ever be. He felt entirely safe and relaxed around the God. How could he not? He provided him with this nice little home and made sure he was fed and mostly happy. He got little rewards and presents every now and then. The Beast was also a very attentive lover in the times that the God would touch him and make him feel very satisfied. They’d never gone all the way, but for now, Wirt was happy.

The Beast let him go, motioning his antlered head for him to follow him out the door. He did so, walking through the dark trees that prevented the grass from getting sunlight. A long time ago, he would have felt scared from the eyes that seemed to stare at him from the dark pockets of the woods, but with The Beast, he felt at ease. Nothing could hurt him now. He was unbreakable; nothing could touch him or destroy him.

He’d never accompanied The God to meetings or gatherings; never had he seen the area where they met and conversed. It was a large clearing, surrounded by looming evergreen trees and bushes that hid small trails. Lights of some material or living organism floated around the branches, illuminating the ground beneath them. There were thrones littered around the large area, one a bright gold and the one next to it a simple silver. Another throne seemed to be made of a simple wood, but the grandest throne he saw was made of Edelwood. He automatically knew it was The Beast’s and he pushed back the ironic thought that formed in his mind.

All sorts of creatures danced in the middle of the clearing. He recognized the gnomes and what looked to be all sorts of fairies. What kind of fairies, he didn’t know, but they were so beautiful that it made him want to cry. He knew there had to be other Gods and Goddesses but he didn’t recognize any. Aside from Bill Cipher, who shot The Beast a nasty glare and Jill, who raised her glass in greeting when she saw them.

The Beast stepped over to his throne, sitting down in it like how a king would. The others looked at him respectfully, making sure to keep away from him. Wirt stood near the throne awkwardly, lantern clenched tightly in hand. As he just stood there, a woman with long curly vibrant red hair stepped gracefully towards him, the slit in her organdy and satin dress making his face go red.

“Uh, um, hi,” he offered nervously, voice cracking. “Who are you?”

She smiled, her red lipstick showing off her perfectly white teeth. “Well aren’t you cute,” she stated, placing a hand on his shoulder, her perfectly manicured nails dancing along the fabric of his shirt. “I’m so glad we finally get to meet you.”

He stared into her eyes, completely entranced with her without a reason. Different faces flashed before his eyes, one of them being Sara and the other being The Beast in his human form. He blinked, rubbing his eyes to get the images away from him. “Nice to, uh, meet you too?” he offered weakly. “The Beast has never mentioned you before.”

She just smiled coyly. “Of course he hasn’t. Why would he mention little old me? Lust apparently isn’t worth mentioning I guess,” she shot a fake angry look to The Beast. “He’s the only one who’s managed to avoid my allure, you know.”

“Uh, no I didn’t know.”

She laughed, tilting her head back to let the curls fall past her shoulders. “Well, I’ll just say a few words to your master and be on my way,” she leaned close to his ear, her breath against the shell of his ear tickling. “You’re going to be very lucky tonight. Very lucky indeed.”

He felt immediately creeped out by her, stepping away with wide eyes.  She giggled again, winking at him before stepping past him to The Beast. The God only stared into the crowd as she spoke, whispering in a language Wirt didn’t understand. Then she was gone, dancing back into the crowd where a bunch of fairies waited for her.

“What did she tell you?” he asked The Beast.

“Nothing,” was all he got in reply.

He set the lantern on the ground, siting in the grass Indian style. He wasn’t much of a dancer; not like Sara. He lacked the grace and poise that she and Greg had, choosing rather to watch than participate. Not that he minded much, it was a lot better than making a fool out of himself.

The fairies were wonderful dancers; barely touching the ground with their feet. Their hands twisting above their heads and their wings brushing up against each other’s. Their clothes shimmered underneath the full moon, different arrays of silvers and pale pinks among other colors. Their skin seemed to glow like alabaster and their ears were pointed. Their wings were each different, no pattern matching another.

One of them flew towards him, her golden hair like silver in the moonlight. “Come dance with me, little Prince,” she smiled sweetly and instantly he wanted to do what she asked. “Come join us! You’ll be fine, I promise you.”

If The Beast cared as to what he was about to do, he didn’t show it. The fairy girl took his hands, spinning him around as they joined the crowd. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of green, like spring grass or the leaves in the summer. He couldn’t look away from them and even though she could probably tell he was a horrible dancer, she didn’t seem to care. Other fairies crowded around them, nudging him with their hips or brushing his face with their wings as they twirled past him.

He couldn’t be sure as to how long he was dancing, but he knew he must have been having fun. Despite feeling dizzy and his feet beginning to hurt, he danced with the fairy girl. The sweet smile she had on earlier had changed and it was more mischievous looking. If he wanted to break away from the dancing, he couldn’t. Something was wrong; he knew it, but he couldn’t stop. Panic began to rise in him and he knew she could sense it. She laughed, throwing her head back to display sharp looking canines.

“Excuse me, I am afraid I have to interrupt your plans, girl.”

She stopped laughing, green eyes widening when she realized The Beast was speaking to her. Wirt immediately stopped dancing, collapsing on his knees out of pure exhaustion. The fairy girl cowered, bowing her head in respect towards the God. “I’m sorry, I was only having a bit of fun,” she pleaded, her voice sounding meek and afraid. “I wasn’t going to kill him! I promise!”

The Beast only leaned forward, wrapping a hand around her throat. “You are lucky I am feeling merciful today,” he sneered. “Otherwise I would not hesitate in snapping that pretty little neck of yours.”

She gulped, looking down at the fingers tracing her throat. “Tha…thank you, Lord Cernunnos.”

The God only sneered at her before shoving her aside. She scrambled, running further into the crowd of fairies to escape the God’s anger. The Beast helped him up, legs protesting as they were now sore from all the dancing. “What was that?” he asked, adjusting the hat on his head. “What did she do?”

“She had you under a spell,” The Beast explained calmly, pulling him away from the dancing ground. “If I hadn’t intervened, you would have eventually died. Fairies are cruel, that way.”

“Thank you,” he bowed his head, now feeling rather foolish for joining her in that dance. “Thank you for saving me, Beast.”

He just knew the God was smirking at him. “There are other ways you can thank me,” a hand traced his cheek, trailing down his chest. “Follow me.”

The God turned his back to him, and Wirt quickly grabbed the lantern from near The Beast’s throne. He swore he could hear Lust laughing, but he couldn’t be sure. The Beast walked rather quickly, so he pretty much had to jog in order to keep up with him. The God stopped walking after a good ten minutes, the sound of the drums and other musical instruments fading away from his ears. This clearing was smaller, with the trees closer together and the moon shining bright over them. A small brook could be heard babbling nearby and he had to admit, it was rather pretty with the rocks and moss growing around it.

He hadn’t even realized The Beast had changed his form until he felt lips press against his own. The God made a possessive sounding growl, pulling him flush against him. He wrapped his arms around the God’s neck, whimpering into the kiss and allowing the taller being to stick his tongue in his mouth. He felt excited, pulling himself as close as he could to the God. He always loved it when the God rewarded him like this. Every kiss, every touch, was like spark of fire against his body. Every time it happened, he craved more.

He didn’t even care when The Beast pushed him against the ground, removing the cape and hat from his body. With long, nimble fingers, he undid his shirt, running a hand down his chest and all the way to his trousers, cupping him skillfully. He moaned, arching into the God and pulling the hair at the back of his head. The Beast grunted in reply, furiously attacking his neck to leave little purple marks that would still be there in the morning.

The Beast ground his hips against his, capturing his lips once more in a bruising kiss. Wirt gasped, legs wrapping around the hips and arching his body up to meet the hip movements of the God’s. He couldn’t stop the desperate moans coming from his mouth and if anything, they seemed to excite the God. The Beast lowered his head from his collarbone, flicking his left nipple with his tongue before suckling and biting on it.

The hardness pulsed in his trousers, and he threaded his hands through the God’s sandy dark blonde hair. The Beast laughed, the sound vibrating through is body and the sound went straight to Wirt’s hardened cock.

“T…touch me!” he pleaded, grabbing at the God’s hand. “Oh God, touch me! Please!”

“So needy,” The Beast teased, giving his nipple one last flick with his tongue. His cold hand slowly undid his trousers, pushing them and his underwear past his knees and eventually off his legs. He grabbed the erection standing at attention, massaging it unbearably slowly. “Like this?”

“Nngh,” he whined, grinding into the hand. “Faster!”

“Not yet,” the God tisked, his thumb rubbing the head of his cock. “Perhaps I will take my time. We don’t have to rush, Walter.”

The grass was unbelievably soft under his bare skin and he watched with lidded eyes as the Gods stripped himself, erection feeling even harder as he noticed the outline of the muscles against the pale skin. The God kneeled down again, kissing him and massaging his tongue with his to the point where he had Wirt moaning wantonly into his mouth. Fingers danced down his body, past his balls to where his virgin hole was.

Surprisingly, the God was gentle in fingering him. Adding another finger when he thought Wirt was ready, scissoring them and listening to Wirt’s little gasps. “You’ve been so good, lately,” the God groaned as Wirt’s hand grabbed him, massaging the length with his fingers. “You’ve been so good for your master.”

“B…Beast,” he writhed against the God. “Please, just take me already! Please!”

“Very well,” The God chuckled, removing his fingers. He spat into his hand, massaging his penis with a clear fluid and lined himself up to Wirt.

“Oh,” Wirt breathed out, eyes fluttering softly as the God pushed himself in slowly, grunting as he felt Wirt’s tightness. Wirt just wrapped his legs tighter against the God’s as he pushed in further. “Beast, please!”

“So impatient,” The God whispered against his lips, now fully inside of Wirt. “But it’s to be expected out of you.”

He pulled out, slamming himself back in and Wirt saw stars. The Beast was slow at first, but quickly sped up after each thrust. Wirt mewled against him, gasping and moaning loudly as the God grunted, a thin layer of sweat against them. His pale hand grabbed Wirt’s painfully hard erection, stroking in time with his thrusts.

When the God found that spot inside of him, he cried even harder with pleasure. “Beast!” he called out, feeling the God smirk against his skin. “Oh!”

“Use my real name,” The God commanded in all seriousness, which only made his arousal twitch. Precum leaked down as the God kept stroking him off. “Come on, Lover boy, say my name.”

“Cer…Cernunnos!”

The God gave a few more powerful thrusts and ejaculated inside, letting out a noise of pleasure. Wirt came not long after that, coating the God’s hands in semen. The Beast relaxed against him for a few minutes, catching his breath as they came down from their high. The air smelt of sex and sweat, and Wirt let out a sigh of satisfaction as The Beast pulled out of him, pulling him into his strong arms.

Wirt nuzzled into the embrace, feeling completely satisfied and tired. A long time ago, he would have never expected this to happen, but now that it had, he wasn’t complaining. The Beast only sighed, looking up into the sky with a faraway look, absentmindedly stroking Wirt’s hair comfortingly.

He was half tempted to ask The Beast what the problem was, but decided against it. For now, it could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, let me explain a few things. Yes, I made Wirt's mother Chinese because why not? We never see the parents in the miniseries and I think that we need more Asians in cartoons. Yes, we have Candy, but it's not enough T.T So if you don't like it, that's fine. I'm not changing it. I have too much fun inventing characters anyway and it was a lot of fun. I modeled her after Liu Yi Fei, a Chinese actress whom I think is very pretty. This apparently makes Wirt and Greg half Chinese, but I'm okay with that. Greg will just take after his father more, which happens. I have a classmate who is half Korean and looking at him, you wouldn't think he looks Korean because he takes after his father, who is of European descent. Again, if you don't like this, too bad! Mwhahaha! 
> 
> Also, I don't believe in tattooing a child. I wouldn't do it in real life but there are obviously cultural differences around the world. This is also an Alternate Universe, so I took artistic liberty. I don't know where Gravity Falls exists in this universe, but let's just say the USA doesn't exist in this world. Nothing against the USA, because I live there, but making stuff up is fun. Too much fun, but whatever. 
> 
> Here's the link as to what I sort of based Wirt and Greg's mom off of. Just picture her a little older and we'll be fine. She's actually twenty-eight, so she's just nine years older than me: http://allactressbio.blogspot.com/2012/10/liu-yi-fei.html


	7. A brother's life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Beast muses while he watches Bill Cipher suffer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a little flashback in the beginning on a discussion between Wirt and his mother. I have most of the first chapter for the new story done, but I won't have it posted till tomorrow. Well, that's all for now! I have a concert to prepare for! I play a violin if anyone wants to know :)

_“Isn’t your brother adorable, Wirt?”_

_Wirt eyed his little brother in distaste, watching as the three year old played with his toys on the floor. Well, the toys had been Wirt’s when he was a toddler, but that didn’t matter much to Wirt. He just wanted the toddler to disappear; he wanted Dave to disappear. No one asked him if he wanted another father or a little brother. No one asked him anything._

_“No,” he grumbled, glaring at the boy. “No he is not.”_

_Wirt’s mother sighed, pulling Greg into her lap as they both sat on the floor. Wirt had his arms crossed, tattoo now peeking out from under his sleeve. “You could try to like him, you know,” his mother continued on, letting Greg play with her finger. “And you could try to like your father too.”_

_“He’s not my father,” he snapped. “My father’s dead; buried right behind the house.”_

_He instantly regretted saying that, watching as his mother’s eyes filled with sadness. She sighed, and for a moment, he was afraid that she would ground him or punish him in some way. She did have a bamboo switch lying around somewhere and he had met the blunt end of that stick once or twice. Standing up, she let Greg rest on her hip as she put him on the bed. “It’s nap time,” she said to the little toddler. “Time for this little boy to sleep.”_

_The three year old didn’t protest, he just let their mother put the quilt over him and closed his eyes. Their mother stepped back over to him, taking his face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Wirt, that you don’t like Dave. I’m sorry if you feel that he’s trying to replace your father, but don’t take it out on Greg. Greg didn’t do anything. If anything, be angry at me.”_

_“I don’t want to be angry at you!” he protested. “I just don’t like Dave. He keeps acting like he’s my father and he’s not.”_

_“I understand.”_

_“Do you?” he shot at her, not even concealing the bite in his voice. “Dad didn’t die in an accident, did he?”_

_He observed her sad face change into one of surprise. “Wirt, why would you say something like that?” she narrowed her eyes, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Why?”_

_“Was it? Because you never told me how he died. If it was an accident, it shouldn’t be such a big deal to talk about.”_

_She glared at him, jaw clenching and unclenching as her dark eyes bored into his. “I was going to tell you when I thought you were ready; five years old is hardly old enough to be bale to handle the truth. You want to know what happened? Fine,” he knew he had pushed it; but there was no going back now. “Take a seat, Walter.”_

_He took a seat at the kitchen table, hoping not to incur her wrath._

_She took the seat across from him, eyes still focused on him. “Shortly after you turned five years old, two men came into our home. You were somewhere in the village that day, and I am extremely grateful for that fact, but it still doesn’t change the fact that your father was murdered.”_

_“Dad was murdered?”_

_She nodded, mouth set in a thin line. “They were human traffickers,” she took his hand into hers, squeezing it very tightly. “Our race, Wirt, isn’t very common here and that’s appealing to some people. I got a lot of looks when I arrived in the village and even got some unwanted attention at times. Your father bravely fought them off in order to defend me and you.”_

_“So, it wasn’t an accident,” he stated, not entirely sure how to take all this in. “Why would they want me?”_

_“You’re half of me,” her hand felt cold compared to his and it felt firm; too firm. “How many half Chinese children do you find in these parts?”_

_“I guess,” he felt sick to his stomach; like he had the flu or ate something bad. “If they killed Dad, how did you escape?”_

_“The neighbors heard,” she responded, now glancing over at Greg’s sleeping body. “They rushed in and chased off the men. Your father fought very bravely, Walter. I helped as much as I could but your father lost his focus when one of the men tried to…” she paused briefly, sighing. “One of the men attempted to rape me while your father was fighting with the other. Your father tried to pry him off me when the other man stabbed him in the heart.”_

_“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” he asked, the house now feeling cold and unwelcoming. All the information was seeping through his mind; making him feel even sicker now. “Why?”_

_“How would a five year old understand?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “You wouldn’t have understood what happened and you can be angry with me all you want, but I had your interest in mind. And I wasn’t even sure how to explain things to you.”_

_He moved away from the kitchen table, throwing the door to the house open and ran out of the house and into the early June air. He could hear his mother calling for him, but he ignored her. He just continued to run past the houses, finding his way to the very edge of the forest. He didn’t go in; he wasn’t stupid, but he curled up beside and ash tree and cried._

_Normally he didn’t cry; he had too much pride to do that, but now he just sobbed. There was no one outside to listen to his cries except for the small animals and insects that scoured the ground and air. He cried into his arms, out of frustration and sadness of the information he’d received and the life he was living. He would never accept Dave as his father, no matter how many times the man would try to be. And Greg would only be his half-brother, nothing more._

_As he cried, he swore he could hear singing in the distance. A beautiful, yet haunting tune._

_“COME WAYWARD SOULS WHO WANDER THROUGH THE DARKNESS!”_

* * *

 “Where did you get that tattoo, Lover Boy?”

Wirt glanced over at The Beast, chest still heaving from the very passionate sex that had just occurred on his bed. “Oh,” he let The Beast take his arm, pale nimble fingers ghosting over the symbol. “My mom gave it to me. It’s the symbol of our family. Greg probably had his already and passed it down to his kids.”

“You still speak of them so fondly,” The Beast commented, his tone indifferent. “It’s been one hundred and sixty years, Lover boy.”

“I know,” Wirt replied. “I was just stating a fact.”

Wirt curled up against the God, and Cernunnos knew he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day in his arms. However, that just wasn’t possible. The Beast could only stay in his human form for so long and he knew that The Beast felt very drained after doing so. Of course the sex was great. Quite frankly, Wirt was getting better at sex every time they did it.

“I have to go,” The Beast started, sitting up and gently moving the immortal teenager from his body. “I will be back later.”

“Fine,” Wirt yawned, resting back against the mattress and letting The Beast get a good look at his upper body. If Cernunnos had his way, he would stay in this form a lot longer and just have his way with the teenager all day. But that could wait. He had important and more urgent things to do.

He quickly formed back to his usually form, feeling tired and very weak. He would stay at Wirt’s little makeshift home for a while longer to get his strength back, but something had happened. While he was busy having his way with the immortal teenager, the ground had trembled. A blue light had burst through the forest and it left as soon as it came. He knew what it was; but also knew that it wasn’t time yet to go back.

Cernunnos had been told the destiny of The Unknown; he knew Pandora’s bane hadn’t come to them yet, though Bill Cipher seemed to have found someone in that lineage.

Too bad it ended tragically.

He stood in the center of the clearing where they all had appeared in a thousand years ago. The trees had their leaves singed off, the smell of burn leaves and bark filling his nostrils in a repugnant smell. The grass had been charred and smoke form the runes etched in stone across the grass flew up towards the sky.

Bill Cipher was on his knees in his human form, looking shocked. No, shocked wasn’t the right word. He looked dazed, as if he hadn’t realized what had happened. His trademark yellow suit had burned patches and scrapes decorated his face. Cernunnos stood beside him, watching bits of The Unknown burn with unsympathetic eyes. “Did someone get angry?” he asked, in an almost taunting voice. “It looks like a fight happened here.”

“Jill,” was all Bill managed to say, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Jill…Ford, that bastard.”

“Jill’s dead,” Cernunnos looked over the burning body in front of them. The fire burned silver, answering his own question. “Did you do this Bill? Did you kill your own counterpart? Your precious sister?”

“SHUT UP!” Bill yelled, hands now over his ears and he shot away from the God of Fear, pacing back and forth. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

Cernunnos just smirked. “I told you Ford wasn’t the one. The one you’re waiting for, I believe, hasn’t even been born yet. Did you not even listen to the three sisters when they told you your fate?”

“Leave me alone,” Bill snapped, eyes glowing red now. “Or I’ll kill you.”

Cernunnos only shrugged. “You’ll try, and you can try as often as you like, but you will never be able to kill me.”

“One day I will!”

He snorted. “It’s a bit inappropriate to be making death threats, now isn’t it? Considering you just killed Jill. At least I don’t have the same cruelness in me to kill my own counterpart.”

Bill just sneered. “That’s because you’re too afraid of it. You’re afraid of your own counterpart and that’s why you won’t let it out. You kept it shoved to the very bottom of the box so it wouldn’t ever have a chance of leaving.”

“You hold your tongue,” he snarled back, allowing himself to grow bigger than Bill and he towered over the golden god. “Or I will kill you in every way that terrifies you. I know your fears, Cipher.”

He knew he was the only God whom Bill was afraid of. After all, being the God of fear didn’t exactly mean he was liked among his peers. Many disliked him because he knew what they feared; what their weaknesses were. Disliked, yet respected. A weird, but not entirely unpleasant feeling. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Bill wandered around the runes, grabbing the glasses that had been left on the stones. With inhuman strength, he crushed the glasses, leaving nothing but black and clear dust behind as he let the particles slip through his hands. “I will kill Stanford,” he vowed. “I will make him suffer for what he put me through.”

“That should be interesting,” he commented, ignoring the snide look Bill shot him. “And how will you kill him?”

“Who knows?” the grin Bill had on was truly something scary; too wide and too insane to be taken lightly. There was a rumor that often went around that Bill’s smiles could make a human go insane. He would have to test that out one day, only he wouldn’t use his human pet to do it. No, that would be too cruel. And Wirt was being so good lately.

It would be a shame to hurt him unnecessarily.

Eventually he would have to kill Astarte and Gregory. While the Unknown was vast and almost endless, there could be a chance that the goddess would slip up and the two brothers would find each other. If that happened, then everything he’d worked on for the past one hundred and sixty years would be for nothing.

He was, quite frankly, tired of being alone.

Many would scoff at the thought of him getting lonely, but it was a truth he would allow himself to admit. While he was a skillful liar and was quite professional on letting others think that he was lair, but it was all to hide his true intentions.

Yes, eventually hope would be released, but not for a long time. He knew he couldn’t keep it trapped forever; he was many things but one of them was not stupid.

So humming a little operatic tune, he walked away from Bill. Stalking further into The Unknown to look out for more victims.

* * *

 

**(Annie and Greg)**

“What is that little song you always sing?”

Annie peered down at the small boy, whose head was now in her lap and looking up at the night sky tiredly. His dark grey eyes looked up at hers, clashing with her piercing blue orbs. In his arms, he clutched his frog Jason, (whom she made immortal as well), and sighed in a sleepy way. “It’s a song Mom used to sing to me and Wirt.”

“How does it go?”

“Um, let me think,” he yawned. “I like it best when Wirt sings it quietly to himself when he thinks no one can hear him.”

“Interesting.”

“Yup,” he nodded. “Okay, I think I have it now. Let’s see… _Wo de bao bei bao bei, gei ni yi dian tian tian, rang ni jin ye dou hao mian, wo de xiao gui xiao gui, dou dou ni dei mei yan, rang ni xi huan zhe shi jie, hua la la la la la wo de bao bei, zheng ge shi hou you ge ren pei, ai ya ya yan ya ya wo de bao bei, rang ni zhi dao ni zui mei…”_

She paused, not understanding what he was saying, but he seemed pretty content. She rarely ever saw Greg sad and when she did, she immediately wanted to know what she could do to help him. If something happened to her friend, she didn’t know what she’d do.

She knew he missed his brother, but she wouldn’t risk his life and have him killed by the very God holding his brother captive. And after seeing what Wirt had become, she wasn’t sure if Greg could handle that.

She wasn’t sure if she could handle that. She had watched them as they traveled through The Unknown and while she didn’t like the older boy at first, he had earned her respect after sacrificing himself for his brother.

The last time she saw him, he looked at Cernunnos with absolute adoration.

That adoration is what disturbed her the most and for a brief moment, she wondered what the God was planning to do with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone's support! The final chapter should be up tomorrow!


	8. A brother's dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The present time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Nothing too big, just a little side shot on the day Dipper was captured. Thanks for everyone's continued support! Working on this has been fun and I hope you've enjoyed it! More will be explained in Beyond the Castle Wall's; this story was to get different points of views and I hope you liked it. The new story should be up today; sometime this evening.

**(Present day)**

“What does Cipher need a pet for?” Wirt scoffed, not looking up from the work he was currently doing. A nice summer breeze blew through, almost knocking the red hat off his head. Outside, on this fine summer afternoon, he was chopping one of the trees outside to store for firewood in the winter. The wood box (separate from the Edelwood box, of course), was almost full, but it never hurt to have a bit of extra wood. Who knew when it would snow again in The Unknown?

He wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead, staring at the God in front of him with a raised eyebrow. The Beast only stared back at him, eyes practically glowing in amusement. “Who knows,” The Beast answered back. “But why should you care?”

“Because kidnapping isn’t right,” he grumbled, setting the axe down to lean against the tree that was now a stump. “You should do something about it.”

“I should?” The Beast cocked his head in mock confusion. “Why should I? The boy he is after is not my problem.”

“It’s better than being kept with Cipher,” he shivered, remembering the things he’d seen and the last time he fought against The Beast. “Jill’s dead now. Who’s to say he won’t kill this human? He’s not stable.”

“He’s insanity; of course he’s not stable,” The Beast countered back. “And as I’ve said before, it’s not your business as to what another God does.”

“It does when they take a human,” Wirt countered back, knowing full well he was probably annoying the God standing before him. “What if he hurts him? I should help; I should do something.”

“You should continue to find and chop down Edelwood,” The Beast snapped and Wirt instantly flinched at the tone. “You will not attempt to help the boy unless Cipher asks you to do something, or I ask you to intervene. The boy he is capturing is our liberation.”

“Liberation?”

The Beast only closed his beautiful eyes briefly, though he could still sense the God was mildly irritated by his questions. “The boy is our liberation from this realm,” was all he said about the matter before stepping closer to Wirt. “Now, enough questions.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, picking up his axe to resume his work. “I guess I can’t be curious.”

If he could roll his eyes in this form, he was sure the God would. “Just resume your work and I will be back later to do something,” his shadowy hand trailed down Wirt’s back, resting at the base of his spine. “A bit more pleasurable.”

He shivered in anticipating, earning a chuckle from the God before he disappeared. Now he was left alone with his work, with the thoughts of a young man named Prince Dipper Pines. When had the area outside The Unknown have a kingdom? He supposed it was only natural for things to change; it had been two hundred years after all. He would be dead by this point if he were mortal; he should be dead, but fate obviously had different plans.

With a final swing of his axe, there was no more wood to chop down. He gathered the pieces in his arms, making his way inside the house to deposit them. Making several trips and carrying heavy pieces of wood was no small feat and it left him feeling rather tired in the end. Grabbing the lantern, he made his way past his front yard and into the rest of The Unknown.

He wandered for a good several minutes, though he supposed it couldn’t be called wandering since he knew where he was going. He walked through the dark, somewhat menacing looking trees and avoided their gaze. The animals all ran away from him; knowing full well who he was and what he could do. What his master could order him to do.

A field of poppies was not far away and if he was being honest with himself, he rather liked the smell of poppies. They helped him relax; helped him sleep a lot better. The red petals glowed brightly in the sun and figured that whoever was the God or Goddess of dreams liked to stay here. It wouldn’t surprise him; it truly was a nice place to rest and have nice dreams. Very rarely did he get bad dreams; they were good ones most of the time.

Maybe good wasn’t the proper word. He dreamed of a life now so far away. A life he could never return to. He would dream up old memories, reliving them as if it were just yesterday. He dreamed of being a small child, resting his head in his mother’s lap as she calmly sang to him and stroked his head. He’d dream of Greg and sometimes Dave. Of Christmas’s and birthdays and other holiday events. When he’d wake up, sometimes there would be tears, but often not. He was addicted to the nostalgia and the bittersweet promises it offered.

He would still wonder what became of his family; how they lived the rest of their lives. He wondered if his mother had given birth to a boy or girl. He wondered who Greg married and how his descendants were fairing or if they even knew they had a Great-Uncle Wirt. Probably not. They would never meet him, so they probably didn’t care.

He leaned back against the ground, closing his eyes to rest.

Even though he was forgotten by the world, he could still dream about a life he once had. The small hope he still held onto that he could one day find them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all I have for this story! See you all next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and a kudo! Kisses to everyone!


End file.
